/Int/. I am curious of folklore of your country. Americans can

A fun myth from my home region of Cornwall is the origin of the crimped pastry on Cornish pasties. People believed there were a sort of piskys that lived deep in the Earth, and many were scared of the mines (the region is famous for tin mining) as a result, blaming piskys for mine collapses, gas leaks etc

Pasties were generally the lunch of choice for most people and crimping the pastry meant you had something to hold that your dirty fingers wouldn't contaminate, and you could throw away rather than eat.

To placate the piskys folks used to throw the offcuts of their pasties as deep as possible into the mines, in the hopes that if they gave them something to eat, they would be spared from collapses and other mine problems.

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There is the legend of an ape creature living in the forests of the western united states most commonly known as the sasquatch.

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>two replies
guess I'll greentext a shitty bigfoot story here. Georgia doesn't have much, but for some reason we have the earliest known bigfoot sighting.

>be me
>be hunter
>year 1829
>live on the frontier of the Okefenokee Swamp (yeah I know shitty name)
>here Indian legend about race of giants living in the swamp
>don't think much of it, they talk a lot of shit
>talking to friend
>he's a hunter too
>call him James
>we've started a fire by the side of the road
>geting dark
>we're drinking shitty whiskey, spilled some on my cotton shirt but I don't really care that much
>both pretty drunk
>"Guess what"
>idk
>"You'll never guess: I found footprints out in the swamp."
>so
>"They were huge though, like the giants from the legend. Don't laugh at me."
>can't help it
>"I'll show you. Tomorrow."
>doubt.png
>whatever
>fall asleep
>early next morning
>head out into the swamp
>mocking him the whole way
>look out for giants
>do you think a giant knocked down this tree, or was it just a storm
>more shitty jokes
>James getting kinda pissed
>he stops
>points at the ground
>at first it looks normal, just a slight depression-
>wait
>it's a giant footprint
>literally a footprint, with fucking toes and everything
>must weight at least a ton
>o shit
>"Told you."
>apologize to James
>gonnaneedabiggerboat.gif
>head back to town
>gather the boys
>tell them the story
>at first they don't believe, but together James and I convince them
>say we gotta hunt it down before it hurts someone
>"Maybe it's a giant ape"
>this jackass
>call him Roger because he's such a gentleman
>meaning he's prissy
>looked pretty human to me
>he's skeptical
>still gonna come check it out
>ultimately get a hunting party of nine guys
>me, Roger, James, Phillip (weaselly little freak) Quentin(confirmed pervert), Josiah (quiet guy, good shot though) and some others who aren't important
>you'll see why they don't matter

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>>68131441
>gather our black powder
>musket balls
>fuckton of water
>ready
>head out
>into the swamp
>sun starting to get high overhead
>swamp mosquitos
>stepping through rotting muck on the ground
>disgusting
>we're all used to it
>except fucking Roger
>complaining the whole time
>finally tell him to shut up
>"Don't tell me what to do! I'm not some greenhorn for you to boss aroun-"
>Josiah speaks
>"Hey Roger. Fucking shut up."
>btfo
>he's quiet
>a few hours later
>gone through one canteen of water already
>some guys are starting to whisper about stopping for a while and letting the worst of the day pass
>keep pushing
>sun starts going down
>James calls a halt
>we've only seen the initial footprint to convince everyone it's real
>no other sign of the creature
>decide to set up camp
>Josiah happens to see a duck, and he wings it while walking forward
>told you he was a crack shot
>fresh meat
>start a fire, lay out bedrolls, start to chill a little bit
>Phillip brought ale
>mfw it's shitty
>better than nothing
>he's really not that bad, just looks like an actual physical asshole
>decent guy though
>Roger still bitching
>duck roasted
>it's delicious
>sun goes down
>we're all half drunk
>laughing pretty hard at James's jokes
>he's telling one about a midget from New Jersey who tried to fuck a really fat woman thinking she was a cow
>it's pretty good
>suddenly he goes quiet
>"Did anyone else hear that?"
>nobody did
>"C'mon, man, tell us how it ends."
>he's scanning the treeline
>suddenly I notice how dark it is
>how close the trees are to our camp
>how easy it would be for something to get close
>spookd.jpg
>suddenly feeling sober
>reach for my musket
>not there

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>>68131484
>remember I left it with my bedroll under a nearby tree
>what looked like convenient shelter from the rain now looks like a deathtrap
>James flinches
>mfw I heard it too
>something big, like a bear in the underbrush
>fuckfuckfuck
>Josiah looking at the trees where the noise came from
>about half the guys heard it, Roger and Quentin are still chuckling
>shutthefuckup
>they go quiet for a few seconds
>can hear heavy breathing
>definitely something there
>sounds like it's in a tree
>scanning the branches, but the fire fucked up my night vision
>twig snaps
>everybody goes ramrod straight
>except fucking Roger, he can't hold his alcohol at all
>he starts making fun of us
>"What's the matter? Scared of an owl?"
>he walks toward the sound, shouting and waving his arms
>breathing cut off by a single snort
>suddenly the bear charges out of the forest
>it's flying
>no, it's just fucking huge
>at least twelve feet tall, and now that I see it it looks more like a person than a bear
>it's headed straight for Roger
>moves lightning quick
>by the time he starts screaming it's grabbed him
>it tosses him like a ragdoll OVER the fucking fire
>this thing just threw a 200 pound man 40 feet
>piss my pants
>Josiah snaps off a shot
>the thing roars
>we're all standing, scrambling for our weapons
>Josiah is reloading
>it charges

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>>68130661
Fun fact,
more Americans believe he exists than Americans that trust Hillary Clinton.

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>>68131536
>moves with the speed of a horse
>it grabs one of the other guys
>definitely human like, it's hands have four fingers and a thumb
>it grabs his head
>twist
>his head fucking pops off
>fucking unscrewed him like a pickle jar
>everybody shouting
>"Fucking kill it!"
>"No, run!"
>we probably can't kill it quickly enough to save everybody's life
>nobody can outrun this thing
>we scatter away from the fire in all directions
>it grabs another poor sap as he runs past, same decapitation move
>I don't see any more, I'm booking it to the tree
>reach my stuff, panting hard
>away from the fire, hear another gun shot and more screams
>it roars, the sound is deafening
>grab my musket
>consider running
>I'd never make it, and I can't abandon my bros
>turn around
>it's coming at me
>still holding my musket by the stock, not aiming it
>I'm fucking dead
>it's on me almost faster than I can blink
>it's damn fast
>grabs me in a bear hug
>can smell its fur
>smells like rotting logs and dead lizards (not making this up, they have a distinctive smell)
>panting hard
>small, glinting eyes hidden behind matted fur, long arms and sharp, dirt-encrusted fingernails
>almost twice as tall as me
>it picks me up off the ground
>see blood running down its upper arm, wetting the fur
>it can be hurt
>manage to pick up my gun right before it squeezes so the barrel is between me and it
>it squeezes
>I can feel my ribs creaking almost immediately
>want to throw up
>instead I pull the trigger
>bullet goes into its jaw
>it drops me and stumbles back
>I start to back away, clutching my ribs, pretty sure they're broken
>it picks me up by one leg and slams me into the ground like a ragdoll

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>>68131568
>can't move
>can't hear anything, might have lost my hearing for good from the gunshot
>it stumbles
>someone else shot it
>it leaves
>so fast I barely see it
>lie there hurting
>try to stand up
>ribs definitely broken
>end up using my musket as a crutch as I hobble back toward the fire
>Josiah is there, standing in front of something
>it's dead
>he kicked the fire at it, there are embers and char spots all over its body
>multiple bullet holes in the head
>Josiah looks up at me
>shakes his head
>look around
>everyone without a name is dead
>Quentin is dead
>poor little fucker
>Roger creeps up to the fire
>this bitch
>want to slap him, but can't even lift my arm above shoulder level
>James is unconscious, but still breathing
>Phillip is bleeding heavily, but has a cocky grin on his face
>"Got the fucker."
>mfw we took it down
>mfw it took nine highly skilled hunters, five of whom are now dead
>mfw never went in the swamp again

and that's what happened

>>68131617
Bit of an autistic way of doing it but thanks. I assume they never brought the body back to civilisation or anything sensible like that though right

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>>68129877
I like Jersey Devil