Tag Archives: Superstition

The Legend of Elias White (Ghost Story)

Informant’s Retelling:
“It all began in the dense, foggy woods of Bass Lake, a place so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat echoing through the trees. Legend has it that many years ago, a slave named Elias White escaped into these woods, never to return. Elias was a big man, known for his piercing white eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Some said he had a gift for seeing things others couldn’t—things that weren’t meant to be seen.

One cold October night, Elias vanished. The slave owner searched for days. When they caught him, he was hung. A group of young campers watched from the brush. Elias, hanging from a tree branch, staring at the hikers, screeched in a strangled voice: ‘The forest keeps what it takes.’

The woods became a forbidden place after that. People whispered about strange lights flickering between the trees and an eerie voice that called out to anyone who dared enter. But the most terrifying part? Those who ventured too far into Bass Lake claimed they saw two glowing white eyes watching them from the shadows.

Fast forward to a summer night not too long ago. A group of teenagers, much like you guys, decided to test the legend. They laughed off the warnings, armed with flashlights and bravado, and headed into the forest. As they ventured deeper, the air grew colder, the trees seemed to close in, and a strange silence fell over the group.

Then, they heard it—a low, raspy whisper. At first, it sounded like the wind, but the words became clear: ‘The forest keeps what it takes.’

Panic set in, but when they turned to leave, they realized the path they came from had vanished. The forest had shifted, trapping them in its maze. One by one, their flashlights began to flicker and die. And then, they saw him.

Standing between the trees was a figure cloaked in shadows, his glowing white eyes piercing through the darkness. He didn’t move, but the teens could feel his presence, heavy and suffocating, as if the forest itself was breathing down their necks.

One of the teens, desperate to escape, shouted, ‘What do you want from us?!’

The figure tilted its head, and in a voice that sounded like leaves crunching underfoot, it replied: ‘To see what you’ve seen.’

The next morning, the search party found the teens huddled together at the forest’s edge, pale and trembling. They were alive, but something had changed. Their eyes—every single one of them—had turned a ghostly white, glowing faintly in the sunlight. To this day, they refuse to speak of what they saw, but they all agree on one thing: ‘Elias White is still out there, watching, waiting… and the forest keeps what it takes.'”

Context:
My information first encountered this chilling legend at a summer camp, narrated by an older counselor around a nighttime campfire. The setting enhanced the story’s eerie effect, amplifying its emotional impact and embedding it deeply in their memory. According to them, counselors would often use the tale of Elias White as both entertainment and a subtle warning to campers not to stray into restricted or dangerous areas of the forest. My informant recounted that the legend served as a rite of passage among campers, marking their initiation into the collective camp culture and identity.

Analysis:
The legend of Elias White embodies classic motifs found in ghost stories—escape, pursuit, punishment, and enduring hauntings—and taps into broader themes of historical injustice, lingering guilt, and retribution. Elias’s ghost symbolizes unresolved historical traumas and the oppressive past of slavery, turning a personal tragedy into a supernatural warning.

This narrative structure effectively uses fear to reinforce community boundaries, functioning as both a cautionary tale and a mechanism for social control within the camp environment. The transformation of the teenagers’ eyes symbolically conveys a loss of innocence or an irreversible awareness of darker truths.

Additionally, the phrase “the forest keeps what it takes” alludes to nature’s dominion over humanity, reflecting anxieties around human vulnerability and the unknowable mysteries lurking just beyond civilization’s edge. Thus, the legend of Elias White persists not only as entertainment but as a potent reminder of historical injustices and the enduring power of folklore to express cultural anxieties and collective memories.

Aswang

Text: The aswang are evil shape-shifting creatures in Filipino folklore. Many stories told surrounding the aswang sometimes include ways to keep them away and other superstitions that they carry. They are known to prey on mostly young children and pregnant women. My grandma had told me a specific interaction she had with the aswang when she was about 2 years old. My great-grandma was a teacher and worked with another co-teacher at school. The co-teacher asked if she could stay overnight at my great-grandma’s house (the reason unknown), and my great-grandma said yes. That night, my grandma, who was 2 years old at the time, started crying non-stop and would not sleep. There was nothing that anyone could do to console her. The next day, the co-teacher left, and the neighbors went to my grandma’s house and asked her why she let the aswang over at their house. The neighbors told them that the aswang was trying to eat my grandma’s liver. After that night, the co-teacher quit and was never seen again.

Context: My grandma and aunt are very superstitious and fearful of the aswang. When the women in my family were pregnant, they would go around the house with scissors and start cutting the air in hopes of cutting off the aswang’s ties to whomever was pregnant. I believe they have become more relaxed about it now, and after asking them to recount their stories for this project, it seems to be more of a story than something that they are still afraid of. Similarly with Filipino folklore creatures such as the aswang, my grandma and aunt had to bounce details off of each other because they are starting to forget the characteristics of the creature. My grandma had said to me that they could shape-shift into any creature and her sister (my great aunt) had reacted to the information as if she heard it for the first time.

Analysis: Whenever my older relatives tell me stories about Filipino folklore creatures, they have a new story everytime they tell me. It’s never the same story told twice. With the aswang, I feel as though their stories have gotten less scarier. I remember being super scared of the aswang when my grandma was telling us to cut the air with scissors while my mother was pregnant with my little brother. It might be a result of me growing up, the older relatives softening up with the stories, or possibly both. I think my relatives mixing up and forgetting the details mid-story made me believe the stories a little less. However, the more I thought about it, the more I appreciated the mix-ups and forgetting the details. It reminded me of the importance of preserving the feelings and cultural significance that these stories hold in my family. It reminds me of all my aunts asking me to have my grandmother tell me these stories when I was little, because they were excited for me to experience what it was like to hear her tell them—just as they had when they were children. That memory alone makes me appreciate the fluidity of these stories whether I still believe in them or not.

“La Chupacabra”

1. Text

This narrative, centered on La Chupacabra (literally “the goat-sucker”), was told to me by my godmother RS. I had heard it before, but never its specifics. It is a slightly more modern legend that originated in Puerto Rico in the 1990s but has since spread widely across Latinx communities in the Americas, including Mexico. The core of the legend involves a mysterious creature that attacks livestock, particularly goats, draining their blood and leaving their bodies intact but lifeless. While descriptions vary, La Chupacabra is often portrayed as reptilian or alien-like, sometimes bipedal, with glowing red eyes and sharp spines down its back.

In RS’s version, the story is grounded in her childhood memories of hearing it from relatives during family gatherings. She recalls being warned about La Chupacabra when visiting rural areas, especially at night. The creature was said to lurk around farms and small towns, appearing after dark and vanishing without a trace. According to RS, it was not uncommon to hear of goats, chickens, or even dogs found dead with small puncture wounds on their necks (most likely from wild dogs, RS explained). The explanations were always the same: El Chupacabra had come in the night. 

While some told the story with humor, others—especially elders—spoke of it more seriously. RS emphasized that for many, the fear was real. 

2. Context

RS, my godmother, shared this story with me during our conversation about tales, legends and cultural narratives. She explained that while the Chupacabra legend didn’t exist when her grandparents were young, it became widespread during her own youth and was quickly incorporated into local storytelling practices. Despite its recent origin, the story was passed along orally like older legends, gaining emotional and cultural weight within the community.

RS told the story in English, and her tone carried the kind of suspense typical of oral storytelling. The story was typically told in the dark, often during power outages, camping trips, or moments of communal fear. RS believes the legend gained popularity not only because of fear but because it allowed people to express anxieties about the unknown in a way that was vivid and culturally resonant.

3. Interpretation

The Chupacabra legend is best classified as a contemporary legend or urban legend, though it functions much like traditional folklore in its oral transmission, regional variation, and cultural meaning. It reflects a blend of supernatural elements, social fears, and popular media influence. Though it originated in recent decades, its widespread adoption and retelling demonstrate how new legends can take on the same social roles as much older folk narratives.

At its core, the Chupacabra story reflects deeper anxieties about invasion, loss, and the fragility of rural life. The creature attacks not people, but animals—livelihoods—symbolizing a threat to survival and stability. In this sense, the story can be read as an expression of unease about environmental change, unexplained violence, and distrust in authorities who fail to provide clear explanations. Its monstrous form—a blend of alien, beast, and vampire—mirrors a fear of the unnatural and the unseen, a being outside human control.

RS’s retelling shows how even a newer legend can be deeply integrated into a community’s folk practices. Through tone, repetition, and strategic storytelling moments, she contributes to the continued evolution of the legend. The fact that the Chupacabra is still discussed, speculated about, and feared in some areas speaks to its flexibility and cultural potency.

The telling of the Chupacabra demonstrates how folklore is constantly adapting to reflect new realities while fulfilling enduring social functions. RS’s version affirms that even modern legends can serve as cultural mirrors, expressing fears, shaping identity, and preserving collective memory.

Date of performance: 4/06/25
Language: English
Nationality: Mexican-American
Occupation: Retired
Primary Language: English
Residence: Monterey, CA

Walking Under a Ladder

The informant was told to not walk under a ladder because it can cause bad luck, and be dangerous if the ladder happens to fall because of it. This bad luck lasts for seven years.

Age: 24

Date: April 5th 2025

Language: English

Nationality: White/Hispanic

Occupation: Student

Primary Language: English

Residence: California

Analysis: This story falls into the category of superstition, and both originates from a safety concern to keep people from walking under ladders if they may fall, and also a belief that the triangle shape that is formed under a ladder is sacred, and walking under it can break its shape and cause bad luck. This superstition originated in ancient Egypt, and the triangle is thought to represent the trinity of the gods.

STEP ON A CRACK, BREAK YOUR MOTHER’S BACK

The informant was told in the third grade that if they stepped on a sidewalk crack, their mother’s back would break. This superstition lasted for years and is widespread, and is something that is often told amongst young elementary children. It is also believed that it can cause bad luck and misfortune.

Age: 24

Date: April 3rd 2025

Language: English

Nationality: White/Hispanic

Occupation: Student

Primary Language: English

Residence: California

Analysis: This story falls into the category of superstition and this story is often shared among young students in school. This superstition has racist origins, dating back to the 19th century. The original saying was “step on a crack and your mother will be black”, which then later evolved from being a harmful racist saying to being about bad luck.