#darkfolklore

[enchantedbook]

'Yule Cat' by Annika Weidner

[kat-von-rose]

• Ostara Spring Returned •

And so spring returned, to a place where springs had long been absent, carrying in its hands the light that reminded the earth how to breathe.

[levefrigus]

Monster Creature ©Levefrigus 2025

License for sale

[comradekas]

They Were Witches (Eran Brujas) (2025)

A slow-burning, grief-soaked horror that feels like a warning whispered in the dark.

Set in rural Mexico, it follows Mia (Tania Niebla), a witchcraft expert and radio host, who crosses paths with a group of young travelers—and a malevolent force that feeds on the breath of orphans (3 actually) . What unfolds blends slasher tension with supernatural dread, all grounded in a world that feels eerily real.

The film’s modest budget shows in its rare use of CGI—but it hardly matters. Director Alejandro G. Alegre leans into practical effects, shadow-drenched visuals, and sound design that turns silence into terror. The result is a gritty, handmade horror that evokes Mexican folklore without directly adapting any single legend. It feels ancient, even though much of its mythology is original.

It’s not perfect—the pacing drags at times, and non-Spanish speakers may miss subtle emotional beats—but it’s deeply atmospheric, serious (not cheesy!), and genuinely unsettling in its best moments.

A solid indie horror with folk and supernatural roots. 3/5 stars.

—

If you liked this, please like, follow, and share! I’m new here and writing daily horror reviews for 31 Days of Horror—your support means everything. 💀

link in source

[whatthecrowtold]

O my best beloved, there is a belief, whispered in old German forests and carried on the winds blowing through the North, that when the birds fall silent, they are watching. They do not fly nor sing, for something greater moves through the land.

Birds, you see, are watchers and messengers, their song bridging the realms of the living and the Beyond. Yet in winter, when the sun hangs low and the earth lies still, their silence is not merely the season’s doing. In folklore, such quiet portends the nearness of gods or spirits—or marks the shadow of death itself. Jacob Grimm once wrote of how our ancestors heeded such omens, knowing well that when the birds ceased, peril followed close behind.

Tonight’s story begins in such a silence.

It was on the tenth day of December, in the hamlet of Birchwood, where not even the crows dared to caw on that morning. Agnes, the baker’s daughter, noticed it first. Even the sparrows that once quarrelled over crumbs on her doorstep were gone, and the great elm by the green was empty, its branches bare but for frost.

“Do you hear that?” she asked her father, setting the dough for the morning loaves. But he merely shook his head.

“Nothing to hear, girl. Just the quiet of winter.”

Yet that night, when the world grew dark and the stars hung sharp in the cold sky, the quiet deepened. But then - three raps at the door.

Agnes, already uneasy, clutched her father’s arm. “Who could it be so late?”

But when the baker opened the door, no one stood there. Only the pale outline of a bird—a raven, black as coal, imprinted in the frost on the threshold.

The baker swept it away with his boot, grumbling about pranks and shadows. But Agnes, sleepless and trembling, watched through the night as the frost spread in strange patterns across the panes. Branches twisted like skeletal fingers, a canopy of ice over the glass.

By dawn, the frost was gone, and the birds returned, chattering as if nothing had happened.

But Agnes found her old man dead and cold and stiff in his bed on that morning. And so were several others found, lifeless, old and young. And to this day the rumours and whispers of what took them that night never fell silent.

🎨 Karel Zeman

[julieschulerart]

The Holly Boy Painting to Download Available at www.JSchulerArt.etsy.com

[darkparanormalactivities]

[theatrum-tenebrarum]

Krampus - The Horned Devil of Alpine Folklore

A still from the movie 'Krampus' (2015), directed by Michael Dougherty

The sound of cloven hooves and the clanking of chains is all you hear - as Krampusnacht, it is near.

The name of 'Krampus' might not be that well-known in our big world, but in the recent years this folkloric figure has made it to the big screen, appearing in a central role in the movie Krampus (2015).

The origins of Krampus are unknown, although this being most likely originates from the pre-Christian tradition. It appears mostly in the still-living traditions of the Alpine regions, where on the 5th of December the spirit of Krampus strolls the streets through men dressed in dark suits of sheep or goat skin, with cowbells around their hips, impersonating Krampus while they run around scaring the children. This night is commonly referred to as 'Krampusnacht', and it is followed by the day of Saint Nicholas (December 6th), who subordinates Krampus and leads him by his chains as the saint leaves the good-behaving children their presents. However, if the children were naughty, they might be given sticks instead of presents by Krampus itself, or even worse - Krampus might take them to his lair by trapping them in a sack it drags with it for these occasions only.

Krampusnacht in Tyrol, 2013. Photo by Sean Gallup.

Folklorically speaking, Krampus is classified as a horned devil type of creature. As such, some anthropologists have suggested that it may have been a certain pagan horned deity or spirit that has been assimilated into Christian mythology by becoming a Devil-like being.

However, no matter what its original story is, Krampus is a prime example from the wild, dark and primeval pre-Christian imaginarium. A story so ancient that it barely has a name, but one so persistent that it still inspires and evolves. -Heidi (@theatrum-tenebrarum)