The South Remains
The heat doesn’t keep them away. It feeds them. Cryptids in the South don’t stalk — they settle. Behind shutters. Beneath floorboards. In the churchyard where no one’s buried but the ground still sinks.
Here, horror comes slow. Drawled out. Sweetened with magnolia and rot. The stories go back further than anyone admits — and deeper than the swamps want to give up.
Don’t follow the singing past the treeline.
Skunk Ape
Smells it before you do. Louder than it should be.
Rougarou
Bleeds like a man. Howls like it wants your sins.
Ozark Howler
Antlers. Fangs. No known animal sounds like that.
Lizard Man
Scaly, fast, red-eyed. Scratches your car when bored.
Altamaha-ha
Too fast for a river that slow. Seen by the dying.
Honey Island Swamp Monster
Boar head. Humanoid swamp rot. Gators don’t go near it.
Pascagoula Aliens
Metal hands. Paralyzed prey. Still watching.