Contributed by Kris Rustic, Host of Obscure Anomalies Podcast
There is an Irish legend that tells of a fearsome creature… A beast that is part hound and part otter; the Dobhar-chú. The Dobhar-chú is said to be a blood thirsty creature that lives deep in the waters and is known for its speed, aggression, and appetite for human flesh. Such a fearsome animal can not be real, can it?
On September 22, 1722, Gráinne Connolly (often Anglicized in modern use to Grace Connolly) left her home in Creevelea, a town located on the northwestern part of Glenade Lough. Grace was heading to the nearby shallows to either bathe or wash clothes when suddenly the Dobhar-Chú emerged from the water and made its attack. With a creature as fierce as the Dohbar-Chú, one can only hope that death came quickly for Grace so that she did not suffer.
Upon hearing her scream, her husband Terence McGloighlin grabbed his sword and set out to the lake in search of his wife and find her he did. Terence came across her body in the shadow of the great beast, a beast that was now sleeping beside her bloody corpse. Mad with grief, Terence attacked the Dobhar-Chú with his blade. He succeeded in slaying the beast, as it was defenceless in its slumber. As the creature died, it let out an ear-splitting scream. Just then the water of the lake began to ripple, and the creature’s enraged mate rose from the depths of the lake. Terence ran for his horse, but the second Dobhar-Chú was close on his heels. Terence rode for miles but the creature was relentless in its pursuit.
The chase went on for hours, until eventually, Terence was forced to stop in the township of Cashelgarron to have his faltering horse seen too. He told the local blacksmith that the Dobhar-Chú was following him and not far behind. The blacksmith advised Terrence to stand his horse upon a hill. When the Dobhar-Chú caught up to him, the blacksmith said, it would thrust its fearsome head through the body of Terence’s horse giving Terence his only chance to strike. Terence followed the blacksmith’s words to the letter, allowing him to cut off the creature’s head and avenge his wife in doing so.
This tale seems so farfetched but there is further information to back this tale up. Grace’s grave actually exists. Dated September 24, 1722, this marker is the last resting place of Grace. Her grave is located in Cornwall cemetery in the downland of Drummans. Sadly the tomb itself is old. Most of the written details have been worn down and are now illegible. On her grave it is possible to make out Grace’s name along with that of her husband. What is more clear is a detailed depiction of her killer, the Dobhar-Chú. The creature is depicted lying down on its back. A spear-like weapon is shown piercing the creature’s neck, re-emerging below. A human fist can also be seen gripping the spear. Grace remains buried in Co. Sligo, not far from Cashelgarron stone fort.
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The long awaited Connor fic! Sorry this took so long, but I hope you enjoy this Irish Vampire. I get so easily caught up with writing these characters that it just sorta turns into a massive piece of writing.
Enjoy!
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The Usual Haunt was a confusing night-club.
It didn’t fit into any category you could think of. But it was full of all pieces of business.
Serving coffees as well as all varieties of alcohol and magical elixirs.
Arcades.
Gaming rooms of all kinds.
A dance floor with blasting music and spinning lights.
There was a bar next to a ball pit and so much more.
Everyone who knew about it, all but gave up on giving it a category of club. It was just now known as a “Haunt”. The same with the other similar establishments around the city.
Mostly because it was the only place in town that served blood for Vampires and certain magical foods for other types of Beings.
Humans were allowed entry, but were told that if they became a meal for an otherworldly Being, they could not hold the club accountable. You had to sign a wager and everything before entering.
You were safe from the magical Beings only if you wore, or had, the safety precautions on your person. And that was a lot of preparation for one night.
And that was the reason you kept your very Human ass away from the Haunt.
You worked with Werewolves and grew up with Witches; but that was within an environment that was locked down by rules and guidelines.
The outside world, the night-clubs and dark streets, was a whole different ball-game.
And you weren’t very good at sports.
Your friend however, was very much into that type of sport.
“Oh, but come on! It’ll be fun! Kilian will be there, plus a few of his friends so you can cling onto them.” Your friend, Nora, cooed excitedly.
It was coming up to the 1 hour and 20 minute mark of her rambling about the club she desperately wanted to go to.
Nora was never a party type gal, but she was really into one of the town’s local werewolves. And they were well known for hanging out at the Haunt on more than a few nights.
“I know Kilian, and he doesn’t do night-clubs.” You grumbled. Chopping up some ingredients for your dinner. Adding a little extra since your friend looked like she was staying over until you caved. “And he isn’t even part of that pack. He’s a loner, not even an omega. He’s here for a few more months for work, then moving on. Which by the way, he’s out of town right now. I’m not going to get dragged into another party just because you want some monster dick. And then get ditched because you want to go home with said monster dick.”
Your friend pouted heavily. But there was a curl to the corner of her mouth. A teasing look crossing over her gaze.
“But don’t you want some monster dick? Maybe some monster pussy? Come on, you’ve barely been out of this house in weeks.”
“Wrong!” You exclaimed dramatically, waving around serving spoon to add to your theatrics. “I have been going to work. And walking to and from the grocery store. I do so leave the house.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Your friend grumbled, sighing heavily.
“Oh, I know what you meant. I just don’t care because you didn’t specify that type of going out.”
Your friend groaned and slapped her forehead against the wooden surface of the kitchen bench.
“Just... come on. I really like this guy.”
“That’s what you said about the Ghost dude. And then you got your heart broken because he finished his business and followed the light into whatever comes next.” You said and your friend sighed again, moving to lean heavily against your arm as you finished chopping up some food.
“Conner works there now.” She said. That same teasing smile stretching more profoundly across her face.
“I’m aware.” You replied. Ignoring the increasing amount of weight your friend was pressing down on your shoulder.
“He’s a barista~” She was basically pulling you to the floor at this point. And you had to grunt with the attempt to keep yourself up. “I’ll stop cursing your food to rot if you come with me.”
As she said this, the food before you started to smell and turn grey. Puffs of fungus and growths of mound began to sprout from the piles of prepared food.
You sighed and threw the whole bowl into the bin.
“Fine. I will come with you. But only for an hour, then I’m gone.”
Nora cheered excitedly and threw her arms around you. Hugging you tightly as you rolled your eyes. Unenthusiastically patting her shoulder as she gave you a tight squeeze.
“I won’t ditch you. I swear!” She grinned happily.
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That night, after many drinks and quite a few flirtatious monsters, you decided it was past time for you to head home.
Nora had disappeared hours ago with her werewolf crush, and you were finding the rest of the pack to be a little dull.
So, you decided to mingle.
And, damn, there were some good looking people in the Haunt.
Tonight was a casual night. Meaning that the drinks flowed with a little less alcohol, and the music was set to a more chill sound track.
The once night-club aesthetic was replaced with something similar to a cozy coffee style. It was warm, smelled sweet, and you could actually talk without having to scream over air vibrating wubs.
You were almost tempted to stay a little longer.
In which you decided to do and help yourself to one more drink while waiting for a confirmation on Nora’s state. Seating yourself in the corner of the building, nestled into a booth cushioned with heavenly soft arm-chairs and mood-lit candles. And there, you waited for Nora to answer your messages.
Even drunk, you would each send one another a text before going to sleep to state that you were alive.
However, 5 ignored calls and 10 follow messages later, you were starting to worry. Nora was a grown witch, but it still worried you a friend wasn’t responding.
“Get ditched again, did ya?” A smooth Irish accent pulled your attention away from your phone.
You basically swooned as Connor flashed you his well-known smile. Seeming to glide up beside you, sliding into the booth with a smooth and subtle motion of his arm resting behind your shoulders. He sat close enough to you that you could feel the cool temperature of his skin and the musk from his clothes.
He was hard to ignore. Since everything about him was meant to lure you in.
Being the ancient apex predator he was.
And also, the Haunt’s uniform of black tailored suits looked amazing on someone like Connor.
“Yeah.” You sighed. Plopping your phone onto the table in front of you. “She has a thing for the Alpha in town. She’s practically been stalking him for weeks, trying to figure out when he’d be here.”
Connor laughed. A chuckle that was as contagious as his smile. “Caught whiff of her skulking around ‘ere. Poor wolfie won’t know what to do with someone like her.”
Connor glanced at your half empty glass. He leaned forward and took it between his fingers, swirling the liquid around in the glass before sniffing it.
His crimson eyes screwed up in disgust. Theatrically coughing, as if he was choking on something foul. “You’re drinkin’ this? Seriously? Na, not on my watch. I’m getting you somethin’ a little less... demeaning.”
You pretended to be offended. “Are you hating on my taste in drinks, sir?”
“Lass, I am neither a sir, nor am I one to hate on a divine beings taste in beverages. But yes. I am hating on your life choices tonight.” Connor then teased you with a wink before standing. Leaving you in a rush of cold wind as he travelled across the room to the bar in a blur of red vapour.
You saw the bartender chat with Connor as he poured two glasses of an amber drink. The bottle looked ancient, and was retrieved from a glass cabinet on the higher shelf.
That alone gave you cause to think that Connor was probably spending far too much on a drink for you.
While he was gone, your phone buzzed with a message from Nora. It was, not only a confirmation of her being alive and safe, but also a dick picture of what she was currently “playing with”.
Her own words.
You rolled your eyes. Hoping that whatever Connor was bringing back would drown that image from your mind.
With another cold wave of air, Connor returned. Seating himself just as close, and just as snugly, beside you. He handed you the glass. It felt warm against your fingers and when you sniffed it; your nose tingled. As if you just smelt something delightful.
“What is this? And why did I see that barista reach for a bottle on the, ‘cannot afford in my lifetime’ shelf?”
Connor smirked. Straightening his suit as he sat a little more comfortably next to you.
“It’s called Familiar’s Home-Stew. It’s a concoction of elixir drinks to create a beverage that gives a taste of whatever the drinker desires.” He tilted his glass towards you, an eyebrow raised expectantly. You sighed, smiling softly and tapped the glasses together with a soft clink.
As your lips touched the glass rim, and the warm liquid trickled over your tongue, Connor continued. “And it’s from that shelf because I’ve lived enough life-times to spend an entirety of a living on one drink. For you only, though.”
Your mind was too pleasantly distracted by the taste to fully react to his words. The drink layered your taste-buds with a multitude of flavours. Some from your childhood. Others were of sweets that you sometimes craved and ate buckets of in one sitting.
Then it settled with a gentle tingle of a hot beverage. An almost comforting end to the warm embrace of the liquid as it travelled down your throat and settled in your stomach.
“Whoa...” You said softly. “That’s... amazing.”
Connor swished his sip in his mouth slowly. His vibrant gaze closing for a moment as he tasted the wave of flavours from the drink.
After he swallowed, his eyes fluttered open and he sighed. “This ‘ere is the only positive reminder of humanity. The sensations of it at least.” Connor murmured. Swirling the golden liquid gently. Watching the dim light refract through the drops of amber. “Scents of the old world. Reminders of home-land flavours. Sometimes, if I really concentrate, I can even feel the warmth of the drink.”
“I thought you didn’t miss your mortality.” You asked. Taking another small sip. Whatever the mixture was, it was already causing the fog of drunkenness begin to float into your mind.
“I don’t.” Connor replied, returning his attention to you. The crimson hue of his gaze captivated you in place. Not that you’d want to look away. If not for his damned accent, his gaze alone would catch you. Specks of gold and silver embroidered the red. Lining the dark pupil like a border of blood around a pit of ink. “My Sire gave me this life with my consent. And I never regret givin’ up my one life, to live the lives of hundreds. But sometimes... I miss the small things about humanity.”
You leaned a little more into more into him. The drink gave you a glow of warmth in your stomach and it was slowly spreading throughout your body. It was nice.
“What do you miss the most? I know you said you miss warm beds.”
Connor moaned dramatically, you guessed in confirmation.
“So much. You ‘ave no idea how much I miss warm feathered blankets. Or fur covers warmed by a fire.” He sighed and focused back on you. Seeming to be in thought as he looked at you. “I miss... hugs the most. The softness of others, warm and... comforting. It’s hard to explain, really.”
“I get it though.” You said, taking another sip from your glass. Humming as a new wave of flavours washed over your tongue. Warming you entirely to your core. “Hugs are indescribable. But I thought you felt warmth.”
“I do, but it’s hot. Like when you’d stick ya cold hand under a warm shower spray. It’s nice, but it also stings a little.” Connor leaned closer. He was basically leaning against you now. But you were leaning just as much into him as he was too you. “Like now. This is warm. Nice and warm, but the first contact is a shock.”
You chuckle and tilt your head back against his shoulder. Looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“I think you’re just using your ‘no humanity’ story to get free hugs.” You teased. Rewarded with another adorable chuckle from the Irishman.
“I always want hugs.” Connor kissed the top of your head. The arm around your shoulders squeezed you into his chest. And you happily obliged. Placing down your drink between your thighs to wrap your arms around his torso. Giving him a squeeze in return.
“I always give hugs.” You replied.
Connor smiled against your temple. You could feel his fangs scratch against the underside of his lips. They were always present. A lingering reminder that he was, in fact a predator.
He pulled away after a moment. Sliding the glass from your thighs, admittedly you didn’t mind the way his fingers wandered against the area, and gently placed it back in your hand.
“Yer want some company tonight?” Connor asked. Those crimson orbs flashing dangerously when matched with that smirk of his. “I finished my shift. And I’m not ready to end the night yet.”
You looked down at your drink. A little flustered, but you nodded and sipped the last of the amber beverage.
“Sure. Mind walking me home?” You asked. Taking up your coat and standing.
“I’ll do one better.” Connor said. Leaving the last of his drink on the table to stand. You didn’t see him move. Your senses were suddenly filled with red and the roar of chilling wind.
Iron arms held you against a solid chest and you felt cool, but soft, lips press against your jawline. You chuckled, turning your head into Connor’s neck. Both to shield your eyes against the hurricane winds; but also tease him by peppering kisses there. All until the wind stopped howling and suddenly you were thrown forward.
You whelped, too late to grab Connor in your sudden panic. But then you felt a mattress under your body. You felt the familiar touch of your blankets and pillows as Connor crawled over the top of you and rested his body over yours. Almost crushing you against the blankets. But keeping the worse of his weight off of you.
He smiled down at you. Intertwining his hands under his chin to rest it there.
“So, what’s the tea, doll face? What has my little human gotten into the past few weeks?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Of course, he’d do this. But yet, you settled back against the warm bed and sighed softly. Like you were thinking through your memory.
“Oh! I have some stories from work. Wanna bitch about co-workers for a little bit?” You asked and Connor’s eyes lit up with excitement.
“Oh sweet-heart. Yer know I love gossipin’ about co-workers. I have some real good tales for ya. But you go first. I like listening to your voice.” Connor smirked. Leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose before settling back to listen to you.
And that’s how your night went. Swapping stories until your eyes began to shutter close and your yawns became more frequent.
Connor, thinking this was absolutely adorable, decided to further induce your sleepy self by gliding his fingers through your hair. Gently massaging your scalp and brushing the back of his knuckles against your cheeks and eyes, having your close them.
And with every time you had to close your eyes for his fingers to glide over them, it became harder and harder for you to keep them open.
Connor then shifted so he was laying beside you. Arm encircling your waist to hold you close while the other tracked his hand over your face and hair.
Soon, it was only him whispering to you. Lulling you to sleep as his accent transformed his words to his ancient home tongue.
You understood nothing; but his voice pulled you into sleep. And that’s how you slept. With Connor nestled in beside you whispering into your dreams.
The Dobhar-chú is a creature of Irish folklore and a cryptid. Dobhar-chú is roughly translated into 'water hound' It resembles both a dog and an otter though sometimes is described as a half dog, half fish. It lives in water and has fur with protective properties.
Most countries have at least one mythical monster lurking in their waters or forests, and Ireland is no exception. In fact, the whole island is littered with legendary beasts and cryptids, but possibly the most impressive of them all is Dobhar Chu. It’s often thought to be a sort of Irish version of the <B>Loch Ness Monster</B>, but Dobhar Chu is actually almost the polar opposite of Nessie. Where the latter is a more or less peaceful theoretical Scottish plesiosaur, the former is a bloodthirsty, crocodile-sized beast with an appetite for human flesh.
Ireland's Hound of the Deep - Dobhar Chu
