October 2024 Sketches- Cryptids!

For a Halloween treat, a pair of cryptids; a super buff Mothman from the mountains and hills of West Virginia, and a chunky chupacabra (chubacabra?) that can't get enough of the treats on the Day of the Dead. Enjoy!

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On some nights in West Virginia, you might be warned to keep your lights off, to keep away the Mothman. Ever since the strange creature was spotted in the 60's, the stories grew about it— a black, ten foot beast with glowing red eyes that flew in the night and occasionally picked off the unwary traveler, never to be heard from again. What was the Mothman, however? An alien, a mutant, some mystical monster, or an undiscovered species? No one could say, but you were going to find out.

It was a clear and quiet night near Point Pleasant, and your car's battery had just died. You called for a roadside pickup, but they were still about an hour away. With nothing left to do, you pull out the maglite you keep in your car for emergencies, and try to get your bearings— it's a lone country road up in the mountains, and unfortunately, there's nothing around… then, you hear it. A soft rustling, a tiny hiss, and then the flapping of great wings— and then the groan of metal as the roof of your car is entirely caved in. Your heart freezes; looming over you, red eyes glowing in the night, is Mothman— and he's a complete beefcake.

The insectoid cryptid's body is warped with enormous, overgrown muscles— his arms alone thicker than your entire body, biceps jostling an enormous, bloated pair of pecs that are forced up and out, framing his face with thick brawn. His bustline and mountainous shoulders sprawl out like a second pair of wings, and the rest of his hulking body that you can see belies vast reserves of strength. 

He simply stares at you, or rather, at your hand— the maglite! You flash it and Mothman's eyes grow bright, following the beam. He was entirely drawn in by it— and between that revelation and those huge, sculpted masses of muscle on his body, your mind starts brimming with all kinds of creative ideas on what you can do with this…

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Dios de los Muertos in Mexico City was a sight to behold; the entire city was festooned in colorful flowers, painted skulls, and papel picado strung across plazas and streets everywhere. It was, perhaps, a bit overwhelming— which is why you drifted away from the bright and loud parties to the serene quiet of the graveyards, where gravestones were adorned with flowers, beloved family photos, and candles. You take a breath, but then you notice something— something is missing. You had learned that a sweet bread, the Pan De Muerto, was a regular offering, and you had even seen people carrying in full loaves of the delicious-smelling bread into this very graveyard… only, every plate you could see was now empty.

You try to remain calm. There were bound to be reasonable explanations, like some animals, or some punks trying to mess with people. But then, when you look around again, you see that you are utterly alone in the graveyard on a dark night, the sounds of merry making and partying seeming to drift further and further away. They were then replaced by new sounds; heavy footfalls snapping twigs and dry leaves beneath their tread, ragged breathing, the snuffling of some strange creature, and the sounds of messy, ravenous eating. A chill runs down your spine as you summon the courage to turn around and you see it, illuminated by the moonlight— the chupacabra. You stand there, stunned— not only did such a notorious monster of folklore stand before you, you had no idea the chupacabra would be quite so… big-boned.

The mystery of the disappearing Pan De Muerto was easy to solve now, at least. The chupacabra had several loaves in its huge paws, and greedily tore into them— he must have been working on eating every loaf of the sweet bread in Mexico City. His belly alone could level you flat; an enormous, blubbery mass the size of a small truck that was now dragging along the ground. His legs were thicker around than kegs, his thunder thighs contending with his belly weighing down and their own bulk knocking into each other, forcing the monster's gait into a slow, shuffling waddle as it sniffed between the graves. Your mind reels, but you realize you could probably bait the chupacabra away, with enough treats…