Tales of Horror Excerpt: Becoming the Dragon

Hey, everyone.

Continuing with the idea of posting excerpts from my book Tales of Horror: Macabre Monsters of Michigan, here's another one, this time from Becoming the Dragon. It's still only $.99 for Kindle and $4.99 for the paperback. Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07435BPQR.

And if you want to make sure you don't miss any excerpts or updates on my books, subscribe to my Books and Other Writings mailing list: http://eepurl.com/c0sMdb. And if you're into cryptozoology and the paranormal, why not subscribe to that mailing list so I can keep you apprised of the world of weird: http://eepurl.com/c0sNW5.

Alright, here's the excerpt. It's from my short story Becoming the Dragon. This one is about Elliot Fraser who goes to see a card reader on his birthday. And while she tells him he's destined for greatness, it's not in the way he wants.

“Ariola?! What is it?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. “Look, I have to be honest with you. The Black Tarot has another name. It’s called… Tarot Draconis, Filius Satanae. It’s Latin for ‘The Tarot of the Dragon.’” Ariola looked at Elliot. “‘The Son of Satan.’”

Elliot was silent for a few seconds. He tried to make words, but his mouth wouldn’t move. Finally, he said, “What? What are you talking about?”

“This tarot was made for the explicit purpose of predicting the coming of the Dragon, the Son of Satan, and to be used by him… during his reign of terror.”

Elliot’s eyes darted back and forth. His mouth was agape. But after a tense ten seconds, he laughed.

Ariola stared at him.

 “Whoo! What a story! I’ve got to tell you, Ariola—er, I mean, Madam Mystique,” he said dramatically again. “This has been quite a night. You really went all out. If my mother was here, she’d say, ‘See, Elliot?! I told you all fortune tellers are evil!’ Then she’d slap me upside the head!” He laughed again. Then rubbed the back of his head and cringed.

“This isn’t a joke! Look!” Ariola stood. “Look at the cards! Do you see what shape they make?”

“Yeah. I saw. It’s a star.”

“You fool! From your perspective that’s what it is, but when you’re where I was sitting, it makes an inverted pentagram!”

“So?”

“It’s the Satanic Star! This is the only spread that can be used with this tarot. I tried using a different spread, but the tarot forced me to use this one!”

Elliot gave her a pitying look. Then he smiled. “You really don’t have to carry on like this. I’m amused. Really, I am.”

“You idiot! Look. Look! The first position, the past, the Fool, carefree ignorance. Describes you perfectly! The second position, the present, the Servant, one who doesn’t know his own will. The third position, the immediate future, the Tower, tragedy. The fifth position, hidden influences, Lucifer! Lucifer! Enlightenment and unholy benediction.”

“How can benediction be unholy?”

“And the final position, the future on the current path, the Dragon! The Dragon! The Son of Satan!”

“And what about the fourth card?”

“Possible future on an opposing path, Death. Either as in change or an actual death.”

Elliot regarded the cards. Eventually, he said, “Okay… so what does it mean?”

Ariola sighed and collapsed into her chair. “It should be pretty obvious.”

Elliot’s eyebrows rose. “You’re saying… I’m the Dragon? I’m the Son of the Devil?!”

“Seems so…”

“Can’t be.”

Ariola shook her head. “What?”

“I’m not a fool and I’m not a servant. I know exactly who I am, what I’m doing, and where I’m going!”

Ariola shook. “Do you?!”

“Yes! I am Elliot Fraser. Thirty-four. Six-foot-three, white male. I’m a computer programmer for Vitech where I just got a promotion because of all the hard work I do, and I live in Clinton Township.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am the result of all my own choices. They were good choices. The right choices. No one’s controlling me.”

“Really? Tell me: what are your dreams?”

“My dreams?”

“Yes. What’s something you’ve always wanted or wanted to do?”

Elliot thought for a minute. “I’d always wanted my fortune told.”

“That’s pathetic.”

“You talk that way about your own business?”

“You don’t dream of getting a card reading. You get one to make sure you’re on the right path, and if not, then how to change your path. No one aspires to one day sit in the chair opposite me. There must be something else. Anything else.”

Elliot sat down; he was quiet for a while.

“Really?! Nothing?! There’s not anything else in the whole world you want?"

Elliot mumbled a response.

Ariola cocked her head. “Say that again.”

Elliot mumbled louder.

“Did you say, ‘friends?’”

Elliot looked down. “Nobody likes me. And I don’t know why. I’ve tried all my life to be friendly and sociable, but people either ignore me or make fun of me behind my back. They have no respect for me and even make fun of me to my face.”

Elliot put his head on his hand. “In truth though…” he began, “I want it all,” he said with a hungry voice. “Friends, money, power, women… I want everything.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Elliot gave a hopeless shrug. “I’m Elliot Fraser. I’m a thirty-four year old computer programmer for the crummiest company in the industry. I only took the job so that I could be close to my mother so I could take of her. Which I only did because she guilted me into it. Said she would die if I moved out. Add to that, my hobbies are boring, I never do anything I actually enjoy. Women cringe at the sight of me, my bosses think I’m incompetent and a pushover.”

“But you said you got a promotion.”

“Yeah, because I’ve been putting in a lot of work because I haven’t had a weekend off in six months. They thought that since I was there all the time that I could do more work. They gave me a special computer that can access the most important systems and programs, but it’s dull work. Dull, dull, dull!

“My life…” Elliot stopped, but he looked like he was trying to say a word.

Ariola thought it may have started with an “S.” She ventured, “Sucks?”

“Yes! Geez. I’m too scared to even curse.” Elliot rubbed the back of his head again.

“I see,” said Ariola.

Elliot sighed. “This is the first decent conversation I’ve had with a person since… I can’t even remember when.”

Elliot was quiet for a while. He then leaned over the table. He picked up the Fool. “The Fool, huh? Yeah, that sounds like me. I try my damnedest to stay in the dark about how my life actually is because the more I look at it, the less I like it.” He put the Fool down. Then he spun the Dragon around with his finger. “What is the Dragon?”

“He’s the Son of Satan.”

“But what does that mean?”

“The Dragon is pure evil and brings great suffering with him wherever he goes. He makes Hell on Earth.”

“Okay, but what does that actually mean? What evil does he cause?”

Ariola shrugged. “All of it? Rape, murder, theft, human sacrifice. Blasphemy? I don’t know. He’s the ultimate villain.”

“I see.”

Elliot swiveled the card back and forth a little. It made Ariola’s skin crawl.

“Is there any way of confirming that I’m the Dragon?”

“What do you mean? That’s what the tarot was made for. It was made to predict the advent of the Dragon and to be used by him during his conquest.”

“Is that truly what the cards are saying though?”

Ariola looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re a card reader. Is there any way to see further into the future? Or to confirm this?”

“I can draw another card and see if it offers any hints…” Ariola did so and she dropped it next to the Dragon. The image was of a woman in shackles wearing black robes that barely draped around her body leaving her bust exposed. “Huh. The Oracle.”

“What does it mean?”

“It just means ‘future events.’ It’s one of those cards that doesn’t make sense by itself. But, I have no idea what it could mean.” Ariola looked up at Elliot, and the second their eyes met, a shiver went down her spine.

Elliot looked down at the spread, but after a beat, he stood up. “Well, I think I should be going. Mom has to take her pills before she goes to bed, and she’ll beat my ass if I don’t remind her. Good night.” Elliot grabbed his umbrella and disappeared into the storm.

Ariola was alone. She was very confused. It wasn’t every day someone hears that he’s the Devil’s progeny and then just walks off as if they had just been wished a good morning. Elliot had seemed worried and disgusted before, but now, he didn’t seem to care. Why? What made him change his mind so suddenly?

Ariola stared at the Oracle. She really didn’t like it. Somewhere in her mind, she heard glass shattering and a woman screaming. She felt as if something had “arms” around her—they were cold. She felt trapped, abused, and scared. She felt violated, but couldn’t figure out why or in what way.

Tales of Horror Excerpt: The Serpent

Hey, everyone.

Continuing with the idea of posting excerpts from my book Tales of Horror: Macabre Monsters of Michigan, here's another one, this time from The Serpent. Unfortunately, you can't download if for free anymore, but it's still only $.99 for Kindle and $4.99 for the paperback. Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07435BPQR.

And if you want to make sure you don't miss any excerpts or updates on my books, subscribe to my Books and Other Writings mailing list: http://eepurl.com/c0sMdb. And if you're into cryptozoology and the paranormal, why not subscribe to my mailing list so I can keep you apprised of the world of weird: http://eepurl.com/c0sNW5.

Alright, here's the excerpt. It's from my short story The Serpent. It's about a research team looking for a lake monster. They find it, but what it's not something of our world.

The village of Ontonagon settled on either side of the river that bore its namesake. Its inhabitants were only beginning to wake up and carry out the mundane tasks of small town living while an expedition was getting underway at the local docks.

A group of men, six strong, were preparing a boat on the shimmering waters of Lake Superior for a three-day search of the fathomless depths for a rare and unique phenomenon. To search for this phenomenon, they loaded some unique equipment including scuba gear, a sonar, various cameras including an underwater camera, a couple of long, short wooden chests, and a hydrophone.

At that time, a seventh man approached the dock from Ontonagon holding a cheap, gas station coffee and wearing sunglasses to hide the disappointment in his new surroundings.

“Ah! Dr. Dorian, I presume!”

“Mr. Burke?” replied Dorian to a bearded and slightly overweight middle-aged man.

“Correct, sir!” he said, shaking Dorian’s hand. “When did you get in?”

“Last night. Geez, that’s a small airport.”

“Ontonagon is a small town,” said a third man with a slender and scrappy build. “We’re lucky to have an airport.”

“Dr. Dorian,” said Burke, “this upstanding fellow here is Michael Hicks, our historian.”

“Welcome to the expedition,” said Hicks.

“Pleasure,” said Dorian, sipping his coffee.

“Let me introduce you to the rest of our crew,” said Burke.

Dorian followed Burke aboard a well-worn fishing boat called the Ripley. Despite its appearance, the hull, sole, and deck all seemed to be structurally intact. The cockpit was a little larger than necessary and the flying bridge had been redone and updated at some point. It’s clean, plastic renovations didn’t match the wooden frame of the Ripley.

“These are our two technicians,” said Burke. “This is William Gorman, our sonar man, and Bill Hudson who’ll be handling the underwater camera and hydrophone.”

Gorman was a slender man with a no-nonsense air and short hair. Hudson however was a little pasty and unimpressive with a round face.

“Tell me, something, Mr. Gorman,” began Dorian, “do you know how to work a sonar?”

“Do you think four years of active duty in the Navy is enough?”

“Oh? Yeah, that’s impressive. And Mr. Hudson—”

“Hudson’s fine, Dorian.”

“Doctor Dorian, if you please. I didn’t get a Ph.D. for fun, you know.”

“Then why did you get it, Doctor Dorian?”

“Because I like fish and junk.”

“You a marine biologist or something?”

“Close. I’m actually a marine zoologist. Marine biology covers both plants and animals, whereas I specialize in animals only.”

“Oh, good. We could use a man like you on this team.”

“So I’ve heard. Anyway, Hudson, do you have a lot of experience handling underwater cameras and hydrophones?”

“I did an internship at NOAA.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration? Damn. This crew is a little more technical than I thought it would be. I just expected a bunch of Michigan bumpkins.”

“Present,” said a man from the corner of the cockpit. He looked to be in his sixties and wore a fishing vest and hat. He was slicing up fish and dropping the parts into a giant barrel before him.

“What?”

“I’m a Michigan bumpkin.”

“This is Lance Fox,” explained Burke. “He’s our Lake Superior expert and a local fisherman.”

“Mr. Fox,” said Dorian, regarding him.

“Lance is fine.”

“Why are you slicing up fish, Lance? Will we be chumming the waters?”

“You never know.”

Dorian frowned.

“And finally,” began Burke, “the skipper of our ship is Bobby Quint.”

“Robert,” corrected a man from atop the flying bridge. He appeared to be in his fifties with bushy mutton chops and a mustache. He had a hard face and wore a fishing jacket similar to Lance’s vest. “And don’t call me skipper. Or Robert. Just Quint. But if you call me Quinty, I’ll be throwing you overboard. And there’s no need to call me ‘Captain’ unless you intend on permanently joining my crew.”

“I think I’ll stick with Quint,” said Dorian.

“Good man. And who are you?”

“Gentlemen,” said Burke, “this is the renowned marine zoologist, Dr. Christopher Dorian.”

The others were quiet.

“Never heard of him,” said Quint.

“Well, if you lived in Miami, you would,” replied Dorian.

“Don’t get snarky with me, Dorian. I don’t care who you were in the world. You slip up out here and you’ll be tossed overboard. This ain’t Miami.”

“Obviously...”

“What’s a ‘renowned’ marine zoologist doing in Michigan?” asked Hicks.

“I asked him to join us,” said Burke. “It took some convincing, but I’m sure he’ll be perfect!”

“Burke assured me this would be the crowning achievement of my career,” said Dorian.

Hicks laughed.

“I know how you feel.”

But then Burke said, “Oh, come, come, gentlemen. This is an extraordinary adventure. As far as we all know, we are the first ones to ever launch a scientific expedition in search of the elusive Superior Serpent!”

“Basically, Lake Superior’s Loch Ness monster,” quipped Quint.

“In a matter of speaking.”

“Oh, geez,” mumbled Dorian. He looked at his coffee. “I wish this was scotch.”

“And that’s why you’re here?” said Hicks. “You really believe that this will be the crowning achievement of your career?”

Dorian shrugged. “It could be. What are you doing here?”

“I’m a historian. I know the shores of Lake Superior, its history, and its legends like the back of my ass.”

“As for me,” began Hudson, “this ain’t my first sea monster hunt, man.”

“Let’s hope it’s not your last,” said Burke cheerfully.

“What about you, Gorman?”

“You see all sorts of crazy shit in the military. There are plenty of things out there that the top brass never perfectly explains. I’m going because I want to be closer to the truth of this world.”

“Lance?”

“I grew up with stories about the Superior Serpent. I don’t think it exists personally, but what an incredible find it would be if it did exist. Plus, I’d like to know who my competition is.” Lance chuckled.

“Quint?”

“I don’t give an ass rat’s about monsters. I’m just here to steer the boat.”

“What’s your interest in all this, Burke?”

“My dear fellow, I am a cryptozoologist! It is my business to look for weird and wacky creatures that may be unknown to science. Why, I spent an entire year in Puerto Rico looking for el chupacabra. And then there was my brief sojourn in Virginia digging up clues about the lizardman. My passion is to search the world over and look for monsters!”

“You ever find any?”

Burke chuckled. “If I told you, I may have to kill you.”

“That sounds familiar,” said Gorman. “Except none of the higher-ups ever joked about it.”

Hicks eyed Dorian.

“What?”

 “Are you really just here for the career boost? I mean, if you’re so renowned, why take the gamble on such a shitty little backwater investigation like this? And why are you ‘renowned?’ No one here has ever heard of you.”

“Dr. Dorian is renowned,” began Burke, “because he is slated to be one of only a handful of people who will be working at the South Pacific Research Facility.”

Some eyebrows rose.

“Isn’t that part of the Deep Sea Research Program?” said Lance. “The one where they’re building research facilities on the ocean floor?”

“That’s right,” said Dorian. “The South Pacific facility will be just off the coast of South America.”

“But they’re not supposed to be finished until 2065.”

Dorian shrugged. “That’s only five years away.”

“How’d you get that distinction?” asked Gorman.

“About a year or two ago, I was part of a paleontological research team in Chile that was looking for extinct marine reptiles. During a dig, we came across a full fossilized skeleton of an unknown marine reptile.”

“Wait a second,” said Hudson. “I think I heard about this in the news. There was something strange about the skeleton, wasn’t there? Like, someone said it looked like the Biblical Leviathan?”

“Yes…” sighed Dorian. “One of the grad students said that. Anyway, it was an unusual find because it didn’t look like anything we’ve seen before. Dr. Cope said he thought it could be an early ancestor to the Tylosaurus. But the reason it shook the paleontology community was because of its dragon-like skull. It wasn’t long and narrow like a regular marine reptile’s head. It was shorter and almost ended in an overbite like a crocodile’s. And it had several horns sticking out the back of its head.”

“I thought dragons were reptiles,” said Quint.

“Depends on who you ask,” replied Burke. “Some people consider them to be a type of ‘serpent’ which can be a vague term for anything long and snake-like.”

“And so finding this dragon-like marine reptile is how you secured your position at the deep research facility?” asked Hicks.

“More or less. The investors were interested in seeing if there’s anything alive today in that same area that has gone undiscovered. Thinking me an expert, they supported my nomination.”

“But that’s not all!” said Burke. “You were also quoted in an interesting article in an issue of Marine Life magazine.”

“Yeah…” said Dorian, sighing again. “In Miami, we were testing claims that dolphins are psychic. We left children that couldn’t swim in a tank of water. They had life jackets, and we were nearby, so they weren’t in any real danger. But they were still in distress. It was our hope that the dolphins would save the children by pushing them to the edge of the tank where we could grab them.

“We developed other tests—I can’t really tell you about them as I wasn’t in charge of the experiments. Hell, I barely understood the pseudoscience mumbo-jumbo that the head researcher was throwing around. But the other tests included testing the psychic prowess of other marine animals including whales, certain kinds of fish, and even sharks. In some of the tests, both the whales’ and sharks’ results were better than random.

“So, I said that in theory it’s possible that sharks are psychic. Marine Life grabbed onto that quote and used it to headline the article. So…”

“So, you’re no stranger then to marine paranormal phenomenon?” said Gorman.

“Indeed!” said Burke. “And that’s one of the reasons why I asked him to come with us.”

“Look,” said Dorian, “it was just a theory, and I barely believe that dolphins are psychic. Hell, I don’t even believe in human psychics. And I don’t believe in sea monsters.”

“But you must have some interest in the subject,” concluded Hicks.

“How so?”

“Look where you are. And by your own free will.”

Burke suddenly looked excited.

Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “Like I said, it’s for my career.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Burke!” called Quint. “Do we intend to find this super snake or what?”

“You’re so right, Quint. We must hurry.”

“Then finish packing the gear and let’s get on with it!”

Everyone except for Dorian ran around and finished loading up the boat. When they were done, Quint started the boat’s engine and took off heading west along the shoreline of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.

As they went, a mountain ridge raised out of the ground back on the mainland. There looked like there as something covering the mountains.

“What is that?” Dorian asked. “Looks like a burnt out forest.”

“It’s a burnt out forest,” said Hicks.

“Okay… Why is it burnt out?”

Hicks looked at Lance, and they both shook their heads.

“Well?”

“It used to be the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. It caught fire and burned down about six years ago.”

“Bummer. Shame to lose a whole state park like that.”

“You’re telling me,” said Lance. “I grew up with the Porkies. Hiking, camping, fishing, skiing, boating. There wasn’t anything you couldn’t do in the Porkies.”

“Had to watch out for the black bear though,” said Hicks.

“Yeah. They could be a problem. My father always carried a gun.” Lance looked back at the forest longingly. “I’ll never forgive that bastard.”

“Your father?” said Dorian.

“No, the asshole who burned it down.”

Dorian lifted his eyebrows. “It wasn’t a natural disaster?”

“No. It was man-made.”

“I hate people.”

“Join the club,” said Hicks.

Dorian turned back to the cockpit. “So, Burke, what the hell are we looking for?”

“The Superior Serpent!”

“No shit. But what exactly is it? What does it look like?”

“Oh! Well, there are quite a few interesting tales. About a year ago, a woman and her daughter said they saw a big black snake-like creature floating on top of the water. The woman estimated it to be twelve feet long.”

“Sounds like a log to me.”

“Not so! They watched it for nearly ten minutes before it submerged itself. In another tale, a local of Ontonagon says he saw it while bowfishing. He said that a long, black serpent swam up to the surface, chomped down on his catch as he was reeling it in and took it away, bow, arrow, and all! He estimated it to be fifteen feet long and a foot wide!” said Burke with a squeak.

“That’s… pretty big. Had he been drinking?”

“No,” said Lance. “That was Clark Lewis. He never touches the stuff.”

“The last report—”

“Is mine,” finished Hicks. “I was doing some research near the Presque Isle River. We’re coming up on it now,” said Hicks, pointing to an open waterway. “When suddenly, myself, a ranger, and two state officials saw this big, black serpent swimming around the mouth of the river. We walked to the beach for a closer look and the thing surfaced. We didn’t get a very clear look at it, but I swear to you…”

Dorian leaned in.

“It had burning red eyes.”

Dorian looked disappointed. He looked down at his coffee wishing once again it was scotch.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Why would I? I mean, burning red eyes? On a sea creature? Have you been watching too many movies?”

“Hardly. What’s really interesting is that the creature has its origin in Native American myth. The Ojibwe called it the ‘misiginebig.’ It translates to ‘great serpent,’ and was said to have horns on its head and eat humans. It was a natural enemy of the Thunderbirds.”

“Naturally!” said Dorian. “You know those Thunderbirds. They hate serpents swimming around the lakes and pissing in the rivers. The Thunderbirds drink that water.”

Hicks shook his head.

As they neared the Presque Isle River mouth, Quint slowed the boat. “Burke! We’re here.”

“Good. Hudson! Drop the hydrophone and let’s see what we can pick up.”

Dorian furrowed his brow. “What’re we listening for? Fish don’t typically make any noise.”

“There’s a theory,” explained Burke, “that some sea monsters use echolocation. There’s a recording from Lake Champlain where a sophisticated creature of some kind was definitely using echolocation.”

“Is that right?” Dorian laughed. “The stories say it’s a serpent, which means it’s likely an eel, but damn echolocation! That would imply we’re chasing a mammal. What the hell?”

“If you don’t like the adventure so far, you can jump out,” said Hicks.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Hudson!” said Burke.

“Hydrophone is in the water,” he replied, lowering a black cable over the side. “Now, we just have to hook it up to the computer.” Hudson stepped down into the cabin. He opened his laptop and started clacking at the keyboard.

“The rest of you,” said Burke, “keep your eyes peeled.”

Quint took out a newspaper and started reading it.

A few hours passed and they bobbed up and down on the Superior.

“Hudson?” said Burke. “Anything?”

“So far zippo.”

“Perhaps we should try a different location.”

“Maybe, boss.”

Burke was about to tell Quint to move the boat when Lance came into the cabin. “Hey, Burke. I don’t like the look of the sky. It’s starting to get a little sketchy. I think a storm is moving in.”

“How much time do we have?”

Lance shrugged. “Two hours or less.”

“That’s plenty of time.”

“I don’t think—”

“Burke! Burke!”

“What is it, Hudson?!”

“Holy shit! Listen to this!”

Burke took the headphones from Hudson, and as he listened, he was torn between a smile and perplexity.

Crypto Theory: Are Cryptids Demons?

Hey, everyone.

So, the promotion for my book went well... I think. And hopefully, I should have enough good reviews soon to increase the price suitably. Course though, once my get my father's feedback and fix the mistakes he found. But, despite that, get Tales of Horror: Macabre Monsters of Michigan while it's still $.99 for Kindle and $4.99 for paperback.

Anyway, continuing on with last week's theme of looking into what cryptids are and where they come from, we have a different theory to look at today. And it is...

That's right. Demons. Could cryptids be agents of evil or of the Devil sent to terrorize humans? Or, even the punishment for our sins? Let's take a closer look at this, and examine some of the evidence.

Exhibit A

Aside from a few cases, most sightings of Dogmen and other cryptids are always accompanied by fear. Fear so strong that some witnesses suffer from PTSD and they just shut down. Some people's lives have been ruined by their encounters. How could seeing an animal or even just an undocumented creature result in such bad juju? People used be to be superstitious about black cats, but my friend John had a black cat named Harry. Aside from being a bit of a porker, Harry wanted for nothing more than to curl up in someone's lap and be pet. I never had any bad luck after petting Harry. So perhaps, the Dogman and other "creatures" are not just creatures at all.

Exhibit B

In one particular episode on the podcast Dogman Encounters Radio, one paranormal investigator was looking for the Dogman when suddenly, a psychic he knew was startled out of a dead sleep from hundreds of miles away because she believed she saw something evil in her dreams. It disturbed her so much, she got out of bed and did a cleansing of her entire house. She then called the investigator to find out what he had been poking his nose into. To many of us, that seems a more than a bit much, but notice that her dream frightened her so much she did a cleansing of her house--that is to say, she purified her house and probably performed some sort of ritual to protect it. That's pretty hardcore.

Exhibit C

Renowned Dogman reporter Linda Godfrey has put forth her own theory that cryptids could be manifestations of desecrated Native American burial mounds. According to Godfrey, most of these mounds are dedicated to an animal spirit, such as a bear, wolf, or panther, and so she believes that the desecration of these mounds may have angered the spirits of the dead into manifesting themselves as vengeful ghosts. I also remember reading Godfrey's book Real Wolfmen: True Encounters in Modern America where eyewitness Lorianne Endrizzi is reported to having said, "To this day, I believe it was Satanic," when she had her encounter with a Dogman in Elkhorn, Wisconsin.

Exhibit D

There's an old cryptid hunting show out there called Animal X: Natural Mystery Unit. It's one of my favorites because the show host, Bill Kerr (RIP), was so over the top in his presentation. But in their episode on el Chupacabra, one of the investigators, Natalie Schmitt, says that some people believe el Chupacabra to be a demon come to punish humanity for its mistreatment of the planet.

I'd think that was a demon.

Exhibit E

And speaking of demons, I'm reminded of a very interesting story from Nick Redfern's book Three Men Seeking Monsters. In chapter 10, "The Sky Beast," Redfern and his friends meet the eccentric and terrified Colin Perks in Glastonbury, England. Perks is an archaeologist who believes he is well on his way to uncovering the burial site of King Arthur. But during his research, he met a woman named Sarah Key who Perks later discovered was an agent for Ministry Intelligence, Section 5. Miss Key urged Perks not to dig any further into what he had uncovered otherwise he might open a portal into another world, and to prevent that from happening, Miss Key issued a vague threat of something possibly visiting Perks.

Well, Perks didn't listen. As a result, he was beset upon by a strange and unusual creature that I call the Glastonbury Gargoyle. Just thinking about it gives me chills. This is how the creature is described:

[...]it was a hideous creature that Perks could only describe as a gargoyle.
     Around seven feet in height and pale-skinned, it had thin and almost emaciated limbs. Attached to its arms and upper body were two large and leathery wings that reminded Perks of a giant bat. As his headlights struck the creature, he could see that its bones shone through its skin and appeared almost hollow. But most horrific of all was the creature's head: bald and with two large and pointed ears, its glowing, red eyes stared at him. An evil grin crossed its hook-nosed face and appeared to mock him, while two large fangs extended down from a wide and black-tongued mouth.

This image is actually from Monsters and Mysteries in America.

In a too close for comfort experience where the creature manifested itself in his bedroom, Perks learned from the Gargoyle that the resting place of King Arthur was actually a burial site that kept a portal closed that could unleash all sorts of hellish creatures upon the world. The Gargoyle himself claimed to be a servant of the old kings of England put there to prevent such a thing from happening.

Then later on in chapter 12, "Doggone Animals," Redfern and crew meet a woman named Diane Facer who had carried out extensive research on phantom black dogs in England. They tell the story to Diane and she wonders if the portal they're talking about is the gateway to Hell. Up until that point, none of them had thought that, but it sounded about right especially given the description of the Glastonbury Gargoyle. It may sound strange that a demon is preventing other demons from being released, but there are many stories about ancient cultures putting supernal powers under their control. So why not?

Exhibit F

Looking at the eastern US, there's another unusual tale I remember that comes from Point Pleasant, West Virginia. That's right--Mothman! But not Mothman himself. This actually has to do with the Men In Black.

In Mothman: The Facts Behind the Legend by Donnie Sergeant Jr. and Jeff Wamsley, they conducted an interview with legendary eyewitness Linda Scarberry. During the interview, she spoke of an interesting incident with an MIB where one apparently stormed into her kitchen. She and a friend were there and tried asking it a few questions. It didn't respond and instead went to light a cigarette. Suddenly, it looked up when the reflection of the lighter flame was caught by a gold plated crucifix that was hanging on the wall. According to Scarberry, the MIB fled immediately. Unless the MIB's are huge antitheists, this makes them look like lesser forms of evil.

Exhibit G

Now, if we're going to talk about cryptids as being possibly devils or demons, there are several named for demons and devils: devil dogs, the Dover Demon, why, even renowned cryptozoologist Loren Coleman got his start when he encountered a phantom panther that he claims attacked him. But, if we're going to talk demons and devils, would be remiss if I didn't mention the most famous of them all, the Jersey Devil.

Personally, I believe the Dover Demon was an ET of some sort, but devil dogs and JD are harder to explain away. Devil dogs are supposed to be harbingers of death and other foul things, while the Jersey Devil has been haunting the Pine Barrens for almost 300 years. In some versions of the JD legend, Mother Leeds is a witch and the father was the Devil himself, which seems to make a good case for the JD actually being a devil of some kind.

Conclusion

So then, is it case closed on Dogman, el Chupacabra, and the Jersey Devil? Are they the spawn of Hell? Without definitive evidence, we can't say really, but the evidence, as it is, does make for a compelling case.

Personally, I don't believe most cryptids are demons, but for my money, this is the second most likely explanation in a majority of cases. It wouldn't surprise me at all if the Dogman turned out to be a demon. Some may scoff, and ask how demons can interact with the real world, but remember, Jesus Christ was both fully man and fully God. Not to mention poltergeist activity in people's homes such as objects flying across the room on their own. So, the idea that the spiritual can affect the physical is not a road block in the slightest.

But, that'll have to do for now. Next week, I'll be looking at what I think the most likely explanation is: PK Manifestations. To make sure you don't miss it, join my mailing list to receive notifications here. Those on my mailing list will be told first about any new posts I make. And remember to pick up a copy of my book: Tales of Horror: Macabre Monsters of Michigan.

So then, until next week, keep writing, my friends.

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Tales of Horror Excerpt: RE: Encounter

Hey, everyone.

So, because I'm not as brilliant as I pretend to be, I totally forgot to post an excerpt from Tales of Horror: Macabre Monsters of Michigan to bait people into reading it. This would have been a great idea for the first day I offered the book for free rather than the last. Yes, that's right. Today is the last day you can download Tales of Horror for free. So, get it today (8/22/17): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07435BPQR.

After today, I won't be able to make it free again for at least 90 days. So, hopefully the following is enough to whet your appetite.

And if you want to make sure you don't miss another offer like this, subscribe to my Books and Other Writings mailing list: http://eepurl.com/c0sMdb. And if you're into cryptozoology and the paranormal, why not subscribe to my mailing list so I can keep you apprised of the world of weird: http://eepurl.com/c0sNW5.

Alright, here's the excerpt. It's from the short story RE: Encounter. It tells the tale of a man in self-imposed exile and his battle with a terrifying beast that defies explanation.

To: SuperCuteTXNGirl75

From: RichMICHFarmer73

Subject: RE: RE: Stuff

Date: 10 May 2000

Dear Kelly,

It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry about my parents. I made peace with the whole thing years ago. To be honest, I was never very close with them. I was actually closer to my driver—yeah, we were so well off I had a driver. Y’know, mumsy and dadsy couldn’t spare time to take their little boy to school, esp. when I had to go to school outside of Detroit—I’m sure you know why. But my mother didn’t do much besides read and take care of the little yappy dog that I begged them for. Well, I didn’t ask for Itsy-Bitsy—that bitch. My mother was the one that chose it. Anyway…

My driver, James, was a cool guy. He had originally been a butler in New England for a few decades. A real gentleman, but he would spend his vacations hunting and fishing. He would often tell me how depressed he was to be in the city and how marvelous the great outdoors were. He told me all of his hunting and fishing stories, at least three times each. It didn’t matter to me that I’d heard them before. I loved them all and he was a great storyteller. James and the zoo are what made me really passionate about animals and the outdoors and part of the reason why I don’t like the city. (The city’s already dirty and dangerous by itself.) But after my parents died, I decided that I didn’t require him anymore. I knew how to drive, but I wasn’t allowed to since that was “the help’s job.” When I let James go, I gave him a nice cushy severance pay and I still call him occasionally.

Good to hear you have so much experience with firearms and bows. Now I won’t have to teach you as much when we go hunting. And of course we can go fishing in the Great Lakes. We can do some bowfishing and later some skinny dipping, ha ha ha.

Sincerely,

Rawlin

P.S. Yes, the reason why I write these emails so formally is because of my upbringing.

P.P.S. Uh, you asked about the calf. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it. But, the circumstances concerning his death are a little weird. I’m not sure if you want to hear about it.

To: SuperCuteTXNGirl75

From: RichMICHFarmer73

Subject: Weird Creature

Date: 15 May 2000

Dear Kelly,

Well, if you’d really like to know… A couple of days before I wrote you back last time, something strange happened around here late one evening. I was in the house, reclining after the day’s work. I was sitting at my computer about to write back when I heard a commotion from outside. It was faint but I was able to recognize it as coming from my herd. Believe it or not, cattle make more noises than just “moo.” If they feel threatened, they’ll warn others by snorting and stamping the ground. If they’re distressed or in pain, they do “moo,” but it has a different pitch. Well, I heard this from the house, so I got a flashlight and went out to investigate.

As I got closer to the herd, I could see what was left of a great furor. Dust was kicked up from the ground, the herd was spread out with all the calves on the outside, and there was a distressed moo coming from the center.

When I investigated, I found the calf on the ground ripped apart; his mother was making most of the racket. I had never seen anything like it. Something had bitten into the calf’s neck and tore it out. There were also claw marks on his flanks. Now, this is weird as hell for a variety of reasons: 1. The calves should be in the center of the herd if they’re attacked and the herd should be clumped together. Meaning it was either able to sneak into the herd or was able to break it up. 2. Sometimes wolves will rip open or break the neck of smaller prey, but this is a damn calf! They are not small. 3. There shouldn’t be any wolves on my farm in the first place! There is a fence built around it, but no predator could jump it.

I unfortunately couldn’t inspect the calf too closely because his mother was mad with grief. She almost charged me a few times. So the next day, I called the vet to have him examine the situation and see if he could tell what did it. I had to use Lady and Duke to drive the herd away from the body. He said that it was definitely a predator and looked like a wolf, but the tooth and claw marks were too big. He also mentioned that the herd seemed restless and scared. And to be honest, I’m a little alarmed myself.

About a week ago, I saw this weird creature. I was driving home from a small venture in town picking up feed. I was the only one on a dirt, country road and it’s a long drive, but the day was beautiful. It was warm, so I had my window rolled down enjoying the breeze and I was watching the sunset. The sky was aflame with beautiful yellows, oranges, and reds. But, as I was looking out my window, I saw this dark wedge shape suddenly rise out of the tall grass that lines the road. As I got closer, I could tell it was some kind of canine. The head was quite large and lupine with pointed ears. I didn’t stop for a better look because I was pretty sure it was a wolf. But, there was something off about it—I can’t put my finger on it.

And then as I passed by, it turned its head and it made eye contact sending a shiver down my spine. It had brown fur and black eyes. Another thing that struck me as odd was that it could see over the grass, which I thought was three or four feet high. A wolf or dog sitting down wouldn’t have been able to see over the grass. And if it had been standing on two feet, I should’ve seen its front legs, shouldn’t I? Well, as I drove on watching it in my mirror, it disappeared back into the grass.

I have no idea what it was. Would you know? I’ve never seen a wolf that large in the wild, but with a steady diet, they can weigh close to 200 lbs. But what would it be eating out here? Sure there are wild deer around, but I wouldn’t think there were enough to feed a predator that size. If you have any ideas what it might be, I’d like to hear them.

Until then, this has been Rawlin J. Signing off from Weird Michigan.
 

Crypto Theory: Are Cryptids Interdimensional Beings?

Hey, everyone. Welcome to my blog. In order to promote my new book, Tales of Horror: Macabre Monsters of Michigan, I've decided to write a few posts on the theories of the substance and origin of the Dogman and other cryptids. I hope you find them enlightening.

Let's get into it.

Theory #1: Interdimensional Beings

In Nick Redfern's book Three Men Seeking Monsters, he and his two fellow paranormal investigating buddies, Jonathan Downes and Richard Freeman, go on a six-week long expedition exploring some of the UK's most fascinating paranormal activity and interviewing some very interesting witnesses. At one point, they explore the idea of something called "Cormons" when they visit a crazy, old witch called Mother Sarah Graymalkin. Mother Sarah explains that Cormons are a type of interdimensional being that the native people of England purposely summoned into our world as a method to repel the Roman invasion.

The idea that Dogman and other cryptids are not actually from our world, but a different one seems likely because although they are humanoid, they are also animal-like. Some people believe that they evolved from something already in our world like the popular theory that the Lizardman is an evolved Troodon, or Linda Godfrey's theory that wolves could have evolved the ability to stand on two feet. But these theories don't really work. In Lizardman's case, Troodon was around much earlier than primates meaning Lizardmen should've been around before us and therefore should be the dominant species. As for Dogman, there are other peculiarities about the Dogman that need to be addressed besides it just being able to stand on its hind legs, like its overwhelming size, advanced intellect, and human-like hands. And when we take these things into account along with the fact that there's nothing like either species in the recent fossil record, I'm convinced they're not from our world.

Another piece of evidence that lends itself well to this perspective is the existence of the Bridgewater Triangle, an area of about 200 square miles within southern Massachusetts where all sorts of strange things are seen including UFOs, balls of fire, orbs, and cryptids. Some people believe the Bridgewater Triangle is a portal from our world into another. Even in Three Men Seeking Monsters, Redfern runs into a lot of people who claim to have walked through or gone through a portal. Add to all this, massive and extensive searches have been conducted to find some of the world's most popular cryptids such as the October 1987 search for the Loch Ness Monster where 20 cruisers methodically scanned the lake with sonar and found nothing. Some may argue that there was a conspiracy to hide the truth, but there's a problem with that--big secrets never stay secret. Remember the Vietnam War? The truth that we weren't the good guys in that war came out real quick. So, I wouldn't put much stock into that theory, and I prefer to think that the reason why the Loch Ness Monster and other cryptids can't be found is because of interdimensional portals.

 

And so, that's my first theory on what cryptids are and where they come from. If you guys are interested in knowing more about Nick Redfern or his crazy adventure, I highly recommend his book. And if you want to know more about Linda Godfrey and her research, I highly recommend her books as well.



But, if you're looking for something a little lighter and purely fictional, why not check out my book Tales of Horror: Macabre Monsters of Michigan. It contains three short stories featuring the Dogman, a sea serpent, and a man who believes himself to be the son of Satan. And if you like it, please leave me a review on Amazon. I greatly appreciate it. (And if for some reason the ad isn't there, click this link: https://www.amazon.com/Tales-Horror-Macabre-Monsters-Michigan/dp/1521889031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1502422397&sr=8-1&keywords=Tales+of+Horror+Bryan+C.+Laesch.)


Keep writing, my friends.

Support the Arts! Become my Patron! Tell Me What to Do!

Hey, you guys.

I'm afraid I have some bad news. Starting Monday, July 24th, I will be turning on ads for all my content: blogs and YouTube channel. I hate to do this to ya as I loathe ads myself, but I need the income. But, there is another solution.

Also starting Monday will be my Patreon page. That's right--you can become my patron! By becoming my patron, it'll allow me to keep working on all the awesome content that I know you guys love. Plus, I've got some cool rewards for all you all, and even better rewards if the goals are met, such as getting rid of all ads!

So hop on down to my Patreon and become the Queen Elizabeth to my Shakespeare. I really appreciate it.
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