The Dearg-doo

The Dearg-doo: the Waterford Vampire

My love is colder than black marble by the sea.

My heart is older than the cold oak tree.

I am the flash of silver in the sun.

When you see me coming you had better

Run...run...run...

-          Dearg Doom, Horslips

     The two greatest tales of the Vampire have been written by Irish authors, Sheridan Le Fanu, a Dubliner who was central to the development of the ghost story genre in the Victorian era, and Bram Stoker from Clontarf, whose Gothic novel Dracula has inspired numerous films and television series. Their inspiration lay in the stories and legends of their homeland. Montague Summers, an English clergyman noted for his quirky studies on vampires and werewolves (as well as being the translator of the Malleus Maleficarum, a 15^th-century witch hunter’s manual) outlined that ‘In ancient Ireland the Vampire was generally known as Dearg-dul, “red blood sucker,” and his ravages were universally feared.’

     Numerous corruptions of this Gaelic phrase have led to a variety of attempts at Anglicisation, the most common of which appears to be the Dearg-doo or Dearg-due. On the website Vampires A thru Z entry for the ‘Dearg-due’ records:

Area from/nationality: Ireland. A dreaded creature, whose name means “Red Blood Sucker.” An ancient vampire that dates back to Celtic times, it is still feared. The only way to curb its predations is to pile stones upon any grave suspected of housing such a beast. The most famous tale of the Dearg-due is the story of a beautiful woman supposedly buried in Waterford, in a small churchyard near Strongbow’s Tree. Several times a year she rises from her grave, using her stunning appearance to lure men to their doom.

     The core facets of this story are noted by Dublin’s Evening Herald from 1975 that in ‘Waterford: A vampire is supposed to be buried in the tiny graveyard by the ruined church.’ The Ghost Club, founded in London in 1862 has been the leading organisation in investigating ghosts and hauntings since its establishment. In 1960, the parapsychologist (an investigator of paranormal activity), Peter Underwood became the President of the group (a position he held till 1993 subsequently forming the Ghost Club Society in 1994). In an interview with the Evening Herald in 1977 he stated:

 In Ireland there is a persistent legend that a vampire lies buried near Strongbow’s Tree in Waterford. Some say the vampire is Strongbow himself, Richard de Clare, second Earl of Pembroke, who occupied Waterford in 1171; others say it is his wife, Aoife, the daughter of the King of Leinster whom Strongbow succeeded. Aoife is said to have cut her own son in two for showing cowardice: as evidenced the truncated effigy in Christ Church Cathedral Dublin.

Strongbow or Richard de Clare, lead the Norman invasion of Ireland and helped the deposed King of Leinster, Diarmait Mac Murchada (Dermot MacMurrough) reclaim his kingdom. In return for re-taking the kingdom of Leinster, Strongbow was offered the hand of Mac Murchada’s daughter Aoife in marriage. We know that upon his death in 1176, de Clare was first interned in Christ Church Cathedral Dublin, while there are various beliefs that his remains may be at Christ Church Cathedral in Waterford and the Dominican Abbey in Kilkenny. Nevertheless, in relation to the legend, Underwood continues:

The haunted graveyard at Waterford is small and overgrown, a ruined church adds to the macabre atmosphere and for centuries it has been claimed that even after the awful creature had been laid in the customary fashion for vampires, this one still lured young men and girls to the sinister spot on dark nights and many stories can be traced, even today, of curious experiences in the vicinity of Strongbow’s Tree.

The rather vague reference to a graveyard in Waterford, and the consultation of burial records is complicated, as the website of Waterford City and County Council highlights that there are ‘many burial grounds for which no burial registers survive, many burial grounds that are closed, or some that are not in the ownership of the local parish.’ Yet we once again have the reference to Strongbow and “Strongbow’s Tree”.

     Another respected source in this field is Anthony Masters’ the Natural History of the Vampire which:

states that in ancient Ireland there was a vampire known as the dearg dubh which was kept in subjection by having a cairn of stones built over its grave. A female vampire he adds, lurks around Strongbow's tree near Waterford, under a ruined church, "and it is to this sinister place that she lures, by her fatal beauty, men with good red blood running in their veins.

Perhaps the idea of a female vampire being that of Aoife, as eluded to by Underwood, comes from the tale of her death. As a young woman upon the death of her husband, Aoife had a fortress constructed at Cappamore to protect her territory and raise her children while feuding with the Quinns. However, she was shot through the throat by the Quinns one day and was interred in the crypt of Kilkenny Castle.

     It is Montague Summers who elaborates the most on the tale of the Waterford Vampire in his study The Vampire in Lore and Legend. However, he refers to a “Strongbow’s Tower” rather than a ‘tree’. He writes:

It has been stated: “At Waterford, in Ireland, there is a little graveyard under a ruined church near Strongbow’s Tower. Legend has it that underneath the ground at this spot there lies a beautiful female vampire still ready to kill those she can lure thither by her beauty.”

     And it is Summers who gives the most reasonable explanation for the whole tale, will trying to explain the reference to “Strongbow’s Tree”:

No authority is given for this, which is perhaps hardly surprising when one knows that there is not nor ever was such a tower at Waterford as “Strongbow’s Tower.” Probably there is some confused reference to “Reginald’s Tower,” which Strongbow (de Clare, Earl of Pembroke) used as a fortress in 1170, and where King John established a mint, whence it was called Dundory. The great Irish authority, the late Chevalier W.H. Gratton-Flood informed me that there is no legend of a Vampire connected with Reginald’s Tower, and probably the following tale has been confused which is related in regard to the capture of Waterford by the Anglo-Normans by Giraldus Cambrensis in his Topographia Hibernica. A frog was found in the grassy meadows near Waterford, and was brought alive to Cork before Robert le Poer, the warden of the city (who lived in Reginald’s Tower). All were astonished at the sight of the frog, this being the first frog discovered in Ireland. It is said that the frog was solemnly interred in Reginald’s Tower. Cambrensis notes that the frog must have been brought over by Strongbow among the baggage of the force he led from England.

Giraldus Cambrensis also known as Gerald of Wales was a Cambro-Norman archdeacon of Breton and historian, whose account of his journey to Ireland, who was related to some of the Norman invaders of the island. The Topography displays many prejudices particularly towards the native Irish, portraying them as barbaric savages.

      The lack of answers or explanations for the legend doesn’t lessen the tale itself. This may be why Bram Stoker wanted people to ‘believe in things you cannot’. Legends like the Dearg-doo allow us to recognise that there is always to sides to the world. Again, to evoke Stoker, ‘The world seems full of good men – even if there are monsters in it.’ To paint the world as good or evil, black or white, dead or undead goes someway to exploring morality and humanity and goes someway to explaining the complexity of man.

     Often though, just like trying to understand the tale of the Dearg-doo and searching for the grain in truth in it, one is left with more questions than answers. A metaphor for life itself! As Sheridan Le Fanu wrote, ‘Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either.’ 

Side Note ; This historical story was done by a friend of mine Cian Manning, I appreciate it a lot and is very well written. Hopefully I will have further contributions by him in the future.

Gargoyle

The legend of the Gargoyle dates all the way back to around the seventh century and to the time of Saint Romanus. He was said to have freed the country of Roeun of a monster called Gargouille  which was dragon like with large wings sprouting out from each shoulder blade and the ability to breathe fire. It wasn't much bigger than the average man but was way more ferocious and hated to be disturbed especially by humans.

The Saint brought along with him the help of a condemned man in a bid to battle the creature and two days later he returned with it subdued inside a cage and led back to Roeun to be killed. It was thrown into a large furnace to be burned, everyone could hear the cries of the gargoyle as it was burning up but something strange happened - the head wouldn't burn, it remained intact. Saint Romanus then mounted the head and stuck it outside on the walls for everyone to see, he attached it to a body made of stone that was filled with the ashes of the dead monster and unbeknownst to him or anyone else this actually warded off evil from entering that building and was therefore used for protection. As a thanks to the condemned man, whoever the Archbishop of Rouen might be has the power to grant freedom to any prisoner on that day every year.

In modern times the Gargoyle is a rarely seen creature with it thought to have moved around from country to country over the years before eventually returning back to France. There aren't many around anymore since word got out of the benefits of killing one has they have been hunted by the rich and desperate and used by them as security within their own homes. They are lonely creatures who just want to live a life away from everyone but have over time been conditioned to hate humans after what they have witnessed.

When they attack they do so maliciously, they do not need to eat that regular and only feed on humans when it is absolutely necessary. They are clever and only snatch people when they least expect it and when no one is around to see it, they would toy with the person for several days up to the point of boredom and then usually kill them in the most popular Gargoyle fashion and that is flying to the tallest building around and holding them upside down for a few minutes before releasing them to plunge to their death.

There is a debate over the decency of the Gargoyle and that it is only acting out after years and years of cruelty shown to them by people but this debate cannot be leveled at this one particular Gargoyle Rurluack. He is the nastiest one said to ever exist, he does not kill out of revenge or out of necessity he does it out of fun and anger but not only towards people but towards anything it can get its hands on , including his own kind.

It has been the subject of many hunts but never to any success, there has been many lives lost on the hunt for Rurluack. Fast and deceitful , he flies the skies of Paris full of rage hoping to strike down some lost soul walking alone and terrorize them. His mission is to destroy the Cathedral of Notre-Dame by first getting rid of the Gargoyle statues on the outside that ward the place of him entering then by killing all that are inside and finally bringing this Cathedral crashing down. This is where they have burned the bodies of Gargoyles for the last few hundred years since they moved from Roeun to Paris.

He can often be seen at the stroke of midnight standing on top of the clock of the Musee d'Orsay peering down at passers by, his wings a different colour to his body and his eyes yellow it is not hard to recognize him. The history of these creatures flows through the underground of the Paris streets, behind the beautiful cultural feel to the City lies the secret of the Gargoyle, one that is being tried to be kept desperately. Out there to this day are the flying beasts but more importantly out there still is Rurluack.

Akecheta's Journey - The Beginning

A creature is said to roam the Kodiak Island on the south coast of Alaska. Many say that it is the much talked about Wendigo in the world of folklore and urban legends, and that it has made its way over from North America where it used to reside amongst the Algonquian people over to the islands off Alaska over the years. Native Americans described it as a cannibalistic creature that feeds on the flesh of humans but they roam alone and do not like to be disturbed especially during hibernation periods that can last up to many years.

Richie Evans, a photographer that loved to capture pictures of animals in the wild in his spare time , especially bears,  traveled to the Kodiak Island in search of seeing the massive Kodiak Bears that inhabits the island. He would plan to spend a week here staying in a small logged cabin close to the river and enclosed by an archway shaped mountain that gave him the perfect space to see the animals in their natural habitat. He died on day five.

His death started off a string of mutilations that happened over the course of the next few days, men and women were savagely torn apart and eaten down to the flesh off their bones. The killings stopped shortly after and no true reason was ever given to what caused these horrific murders besides the "bear mauling" explanation that was given to the press. Nine people dead over the space of three days, it certainly caused chaos among the quiet people of this island.

A Native American man known as Akecheta learned that his father was one of the people killed and he swore revenge on whatever did this. He was a strong but friendly man who lived up to his name which meant - fighter. After hearing of how the bodies were dismembered in such a manner he knew something worse than a bear attack had done this , so he went to do some research and came across a few reports citing the same cause of deaths down to every detail to the ones that just happened.

The Wendigo was the most likely cause of this according to the nature of the killing and the fact that they stopped shortly after, probably due to it moving on somewhere else a little more quiet probably to hibernate. Upon learning about this creature and that it had ties to his own culture going back centuries Akecheta got himself ready to go out and find the monster, he armed himself with all the weaponry he had ; the bow and arrow, a pipe tomahawk and many different knives of design and size in hope that one of these would bring a satisfying end to the Wendigo.

He was walking into the unknown but into the unknown was where he wanted to go and alone was his choice of company. The idea that he might not return was very real but he knew facing this ferocious fiend was what he needed to do by himself, not only as revenge for his father but as to not put someone else's life at risk also, a burden he could not tolerate at this moment.

In his backpack he had everything that the Native Americans knew about Wendigos, he said his goodbye to friends and family who all worryingly wished him well and off he went on what was essentially a revenge mission but one that needed to be done. On his journey he would come across some interesting people and also find out that not everything that people thought they knew was actually true, a few surprises lay ahead for Akecheta as he took his first step over the archway shaped mountain........

Babysitter Wanted

I needed a job and pronto, my mom was too busy with her new macho meathead boyfriend and my dad left us when I was six to go travelling but he must of reached a country for the last ten years that doesn't allow contact with your family, oh well. I wanted to make something of my life and with high school ending next year I want to save up enough money to put myself through college, Harvard University to study architecture was what I wanted to do since it has the best graduate program in this field in the continent, no wait country. I looked everywhere but couldn't find anything or anyone that would give me a chance until one day after basketball practice I checked the clip board outside the locker room and there was a small folded A4 sized page saying " Babysitter wanted urgently for family in a quiet residential area - phone this number if interested, experience preferable but friendly attitude towards kids is essential"

When I got home I ran up to my room and dialed the number immediately but no answer it just rang out :( I tried again but again nothing...... I left a voicemail saying who I am and why I rang. The next morning I did what I normally done when I woke and checked snapchat, I could see that I had five messages on my phone and as I checked if there was any envious snapchats I couldn't stop my mind from thinking if the messages were from the guy about the babysitting job. Opening my messages I seen that they were from the babysitting job guy, I was super excited as the messages read :

"Hey Stephanie sorry was busy"

"Kids yano"

"Are you free tonight?"

"I will swing by your school after practice and collect you"

"Sorry so busy lately, i'll be in the silver minivan at the school front, thanks Gus"

I was stuck between being happy and a little hesitant about it I mean how did he know I had basketball practice after school? After a few minutes of thinking about it I just decided to go for it, I need the money and who knows they might be rich and pay well:) once I get this job they might want me back more often.

Later that day after practice I had a quick shower and checked my bag just to make sure I had all that I needed for Gus, what a weird name right? Walking through the double doors at the front of the school I looked around for his silver minivan and there it was just next to the lonely kids playground. His hand waving out at me I walked steadily over and just made sure it was the right person, it was so I jumped in and off we went. 

The conversation was just the usual small talk until we pulled up at the driveway to his house, he stopped the car and asked "You are probably wondering how I knew you had practice or why I was so forward with my message reply?" Before I could reply he answered this question himself - " Well as for being so forward I was working on a big project that required my full attention and it was just around the corner from your school so I left my personal number (the one you rang me on) at home and just took a chance basically haha!!! As for me me knowing you had practice well that is quite simple actually, when you left your full name on the voicemail I asked my daughter did she know you and low and behold she did, Jessica Freeman is my daughter" I was sorta reassured by this although his daughter is a total nerd.

I was shown around the house and introduced to his wife who I adored, the kids also greeted me - two boys aged 4 and 6. I was told the orders for the night and everything else I needed was given to me on another folded over A4 page I mean was that how this family communicated with each other? Gus and his lovely wife said there goodbyes and left claiming they will be back by midnight, when they left I had a look around the house as all good babysitters do but it was nothing out of the ordinary. I put the kids to bed about an hour after I got there, that was them out of the way at least! I went out the back and made the call explaining the situation.

11.57 pm Gus and Mrs Gus arrived back home to a house in total darkness, they called out my name and rang me but I knew I had to remain silent. Their steps coming up the stairs made me feel alive as they got closer to me, they checked on the kids who were ok thats not my style. I could hear them breathing they were that close to me now, all I had to do was to pick the right moment and strike. Boom!!! Out I Jumped driving my favourite sharp object "Steffies Screwdriver" right into the back of Gus's neck which caused his lovely, positive attitude wife to gasp with shock, she froze on the spot. I thought to myself would I kill her? But no that isn't my style either, so I just walked right up to her and looked into her diluted eyes as she watched her husband die right in front of her.

1 week later I moved to a new town to start over in a new school, being a shapeshifter really has its benefits ;) I still have aspirations of going to Harvard but I am having way too much fun at the moment and I really hate men, the anger isn't gone yet. Walking down the freshly morning smelling hallways of the new school I seen a flyer pinned up on a notice board saying " Babysitter Wanted!"......

Acheron

Being trapped in the belly of the beast for all eternity -  this is a basic definition of what Acheron is. A Knight named Villiame fell very ill one night after returning back from battle, in and out of consciousness he was brought up to one of the beds to rest. Once he fell asleep he had the most horrifying visions ever, two bright figures appeared to him and explained that their names are Tabbris and Toriel - Angels who were given the task of showing Villiame a private tour around an unfamiliar place.

He was put on a small boat slowly sailing down a lengthy narrow river that was enclosed by tall dark trees and a sky filled with fire. The Angels sat there next to him and on each side of the river he was flanked by people working relentlessly, these people were described as  souls on the waiting list to enter the darkest depths of Acheron -  their faith was still undecided. Flowing down the river they were confronted with a swarm of locusts that strangely dispersed, creating a clear passage way for the boat to travel through. It was like Villiame was the special guest tonight and the locusts were aware of that.

Up ahead was a dip in the river, sorta like a waterfall but into the abyss - nothing but darkness awaited and this is as far as the Angels could go. They turned into a ball of light and shot up into the fire filled sky, Villiame looking frightened thinking that his only two saviors had abandoned ship tried jumping into the surrounding water but this only resulted in him being placed right back where he sat on the boat. The boat reached the dip and Villiame was thrown down a tunnel which showed him all his life's standout memories as he speedily skidded down the circular tube, one last tease of the life he had. He hit the end with a hard bang to the surface but nothing was here , only darkness surrounded by more darkness, there were no walls and was impossible to tell the shape to this seemingly endless room.

He walked around asking if anyone was there and getting no answer, but he could hear something, it was like a bull breathing angrily preparing to charge at him. Red eyes could be seen peering through the dark emptiness, Villiame stood back feeling around with his hands trying to find a wall to cling on too but this was in more out of fear rather than hope of finding anything.The eyes got closer and in doing so you could see that there was a body attached to them, it was Minotaur like, horns on top of its horse like head with a human body and hoofs for feet. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see more eyes of the same colour surrounding him, they all make a loud bull/horse hybrid like noise and charged at Villiame kicking, biting, scratching and trampling him in doing so. Villiame's body torn to pieces would then form again into one, he would arrive into the darkness awaiting the red eyed beasts to appear to tear him apart once more, this cycle would be repeated over and over.

His eyes hesitantly opened to the sound of someone humming quite peacefully outside of his room, he took a few moments to gather his surroundings and let off a huge sigh of relief that everything that just happened was all a dream. His illness that befell him had vanished, he felt as though he never went to battle, fit and fresh, as he went to get out of bed the two beams of light that he seen in his dreams appeared in front of him. The Angels Tabbris and Toriel explained to him that this was no dream and that it was in fact a vision into Acheron - an outpost of hell that kept those who had the label of being unworthy of entering the main gates of hell, and if you were put in here you had the honor of spending eternity being tortured by the beasts that lay within.

Villiame questioned why he was shown this and it was then that the light surrounding Tabbris and Toriel started to fade and form more of a black/red colour. Their voiced deepened and told Villiame that they are not angels of heaven but are visionaries of hell contracted to the subdivision of Acheron, and their task is to show people what waits for them once they die, saved especially only for the cruelest humans and this cannot be avoided. Villiame had murdered and tortured hundreds during the battles of war and this was now his destiny for doing so. He now had to live life knowing what torture was waiting for him, if he closed his eyes he could see the eyes of the beasts that awaited him. If he took his own life then that would only make it come quicker so he lived on until he was old and died in his home when his heart gave out from all the stress that living with this terror brought on.

We as humans are cruelly born with the knowledge that we have to lose everyone and one day we will pass away, no other living thing has this knowledge but our only saving grace is that we will never know for sure what awaits us - unlike Villiame.

Burned!!!!

In the Scottish lowlands of the 16th century many cases of witch trials took place, the number was actually far greater than that of neighboring England. They had a tradition of being vile and dirty while cursing anyone who crossed their path in a negative manner but in fact anyone could be accused of being a witch, they weren't always the stereotypical looking people, all you needed was a good allegation and plenty of people to back you up. The King of these parts at the time often had the final say on the verdict of the trials but if he was absent it went to the towns people to decide if he/she was guilty or innocent, if guilty death by burning at the stake was your punishment as with all good witch fashion.

Agnes Kintour was a nun who worked in a building just off the church of that area , she was just 18 and followed in her family tradition where the girls all went into the clergy and devoted their life to their Catholic beliefs in a time where Presbyterian reformation was becoming larger and larger. As she was new to this scene she had a peripheral role within the church itself, the odd prayer for those that were sick was mostly it, a lot of her time was spent in this stone castle built building preparing meals, changing the bed sheets, doing the laundry and just all basic household chores for the other nuns and also for the camps of young teenage girls that would stay during the summer months to see if this a life they want when they finish school.

In the night the halls were quiet, no one roamed the cold halls but for whoever was on night duty. Some of the other nuns used to invite back boys from a party they were at and spent the night in the large open room. Agnes knew what went on but never said anything to anyone she always kept her head down and did her jobs despite sometimes it spilling out of control and it was her who was always the one who had to clean up their mess. If word got back to The King that these antics took place then they would all be thrown out of the clergy , sent home and shamed in front of the townspeople and their families, the men would be beaten and banished for making a mockery of such an important aspect of peoples beliefs.

One Wednesday night after the nuns celebrated their last big night before the summer camps started they arrived back with a large group of intoxicated men who drank some more and ended up smashing up the place. The other nuns were all passed out or way too drunk to care about this, Agnes was on the night shift and asked the men politely to stop but this only fueled their passion for havoc. They called her derogatory names while asking if she would like to join them in the open room for the night to which Agnes just nervously shook her head while trying to not say anything to upset them more. One guy grabbed her arm and forcefully dragged her into the room as she kicked and screamed but to no avail, the door was slammed shut and outside the others drank some more and laughed until night turned into morning and all that was there had got bored and left.

Over the next few days Agnes had stayed in her room, often in a ball in the corner and looking very pale and shook up. The girls asked her what was wrong but she didn't tell them what happened, she just made up that she wasn't feeling very well to which was believed by everyone. When days passed what happened to Agnes started to take her over , she scratched her nails on the rough walls until they were down to just skin, banged her head repeatedly off the side of the bed in the hope that what happened would fall out of her head but it never did. One of her more close friends there kept asking everyday what was wrong until finally she told her exactly what went down that night minus no detail.

When word spread around the nunnery about Agnes and the events that night the nuns decided to sweep this story under the rug knowing fully what would happen to them if word got out. They all got together and ordered a meeting with the townspeople, at this meeting they suggested that Agnes was a witch, citing the reasons for this being how she would often sit in a ball rocking u and down, scratch the walls and also making up that she was seen numerous casting spells upon her fellow nuns as they slept. The people of the town had a council meeting and decided to write to the King about this, The girls weren't happy as this could take days and anything could come out in between that time so they made up further stories about how she was going increasingly insane and cursing each of the girls.

The following day the group of nuns killed decided that they had to convince people that Agnes was a witch so they killed numerous animals that walked the grounds by feeding them rat poison, they placed the bodies outside the room of Agnes and showed this to the townspeople. After much deliberation they agreed that Agnes had a problem and may well have been a witch, Agnes herself was still messed up and didn't exactly know what happening as she was being led to the town center for the execution. She was extremely calm until one of the people grabbed her hand while tying her up, this caused her horrible flashbacks which caused her to scream uncontrollably, this snapped her out of her state of shock and back to herself but it was too late, she was at the steak and ready to be burned.

The bottom was lit on fire , a priest was blessing her and her fellow nuns grinning at each other knowing that they had got away with it. Slowly Agnes was heating up while still screaming, she shouted out the events of that night but to no avail, everyone just looked at her like she was crazy. Her feet caught the flames first and started to toast her leg, the agonizing shouts of pain were hard to listen too, each cry was fading with her life, the fire reached her waist and suddenly it went ablaze scorching her whole body and turning her skin into moulded crisp flesh. The smell of her burned body spread around the town as the clock hit 12 p.m Agnes Kintour was now dead.

The nuns continued after this to invite people back and go to parties, they laughed and joked about Agnes. The guy who forced himself on her happened to be The Kings nephew and he ended up killing himself after the guilt of what he done was too much for him to live with, he left behind a note dedicated to his uncle and in it stating what he done to Agnes and how the nuns made everything up to protect themselves. The King cleared Agnes' name in the town history of being a witch and ordered the execution of those responsible. Lies, deceit, manipulation and the taking of someone innocents life are traits that The King would not tolerate and death by stoning was in store for the nuns of this convent.

The building where it all took place was shut down immediately after this and was never opened again. This dark time in history is often forgotten about in modern times, it isn't taught in schools and for those that do know about it they are wise to never speak of it.

Fear of the..........Fear

Imagine your deepest, darkest and most petrifying fear you have - now imagine that forever! You are stuck with this fear constantly, no let up or break just constant sweat dripping intense terror; this is what the Buruburu does to you.  The name translates to the sound of shivering and the chill of fear, it is a Japanese ghost that feeds on the most cowardly acts of humans who it decides to punish with the only punishment that can fit the crime and that is your worst fear until you die by it - unless somehow the spell of the ghost can be broken but nothing has ever been found to reverse this curse.

In the late 1600's this curse wiped out many people across Eastern Asia, this pandemic was said to be caused by a virus that got into the blood of people and drove them insane, similar to rabies and often resulting in very unusual deaths. These deaths were indeed unusual but they weren't caused by some viral infection, they were caused by the Buruburu who struck down many and this has been the first of only two times the Buruburu has been released. It is kept locked away from the world until society forces it out with overwhelming acts of cowardice.

It can come in many forms; the most common forms are that of an old man or woman who appears fragile and in a constant state of tremor until without you knowing it climbs up your back and sends shivers down your spine, cursing you with persistent fear until that fear then kills you. Other ways it can take over people are in the form of invisibility, ever get shivers down your spine for no apparent reason? The strangest way is through the elements as it would seep into your body slowly driving you into a nerve racking brittle human over the course of the coming weeks, this is the slowest and nastiest version only saved for the most cowardly of the cowards.

The other time the Buruburu was released was in 1945 but unlike the last time where it killed people in their droves this time it was forced out for just one person. An ultimate act of total dishonor that was going on for years finally was enough to drag out the spirit to strike once more. The persons biggest fear was the loss of control and the feeling of being humiliated so keeping in accordance to how the Buruburu acts it seeped through the air this man inhaled one afternoon and for the next few weeks it slowly drove him to lose respect and control of his affairs, he could see defeat on the horizon and felt deeply humiliated by this. April 30th 1945 was the day he died, many people have different accounts to what happened, some say suicide by poison, others say suicide by gunshot while there are people who believe that it was both but no one knows the true cause of his demise - The Buruburu.

Theories go around suggesting that this man still lives on today and is cursed eternally, so living everyday and night going through his worst fear over and over again while given an immortal status which leaves the debate to whether the spirit is evil or good. There are some who know about this ghostly creature and say it is a good thing to rid the world of these spineless people while others see it as the darkest curse that could be placed upon man and it should be locked away forever and placed in the deepest depths of the ocean and never to be drawn out again.