The Plains Keep Their Secrets
The Midwest is more than endless fields and polite towns — it’s a crossroads for things that shouldn’t exist. Shadows move between rows of corn taller than you, and lakes swallow more than just bait.
Out here, stories travel farther than cell service. Strange lights drift across the prairie, and old barns hide more than rust. In the heartland, folklore isn’t a bedtime story — it’s a weather warning.
If you hear your name on the wind, don’t answer back.
Loveland Frogman
Three feet tall. Carries something it shouldn’t. Watches from the bank.
Beast of Bray Road
Eyeshine in your rearview. Jaws too wide. Keeps pace.
Michigan Dogman
Stands upright. Smiles without blinking. Don’t follow it into the trees.
Enfield Horror
Three legs. Glowing eyes. No known category.
Sinkhole Sam
Something stirs beneath the lake silt. It remembers movement.
Van Meter Visitor
From the mine it rose. Light from its horn. Fire in its wings.