Flatwoods West Virginia - The Flatwoods Monster

Carman Carrion (0:00)

Braxton County is a lot of hills and a lot of trees, and the roads just wind around through all of it. In September, the fog comes down into the hollows after dark and sits there. You get used to it if you grew up there, but you don't ever get used to how dark it gets. My granny always said to watch yourself at night. Stay on the road, leave the porch light on, and if you ever see something come down out of the sky and land up on a ridge, you leave it alone.

Don't go poking around. Back in 1952, some folks went poking around anyway. A few boys had seen a light come down on the hill behind the school, and they went up to look with one flashlight between them. Whatever they saw up there, nobody has ever been able to say what it was. Some people will tell you it came from another world. Others say it was just an owl. The ones who were on that hill never budged on their story, not once, not for the rest of their lives. And I'll tell you what I think. Whatever it was, it didn't come here to visit. If you go up there looking for it, I wouldn't count on it being glad to see you.

Hello fellow travelers and welcome to Destination Terror, your passport to the scariest places in the world. From haunted hotels to locations of unexplained creature sightings, we travel to places that promise excitement, adventure and horror.

I'm your host, Carman Carrion, and tonight I've packed the bags, topped off the gas tank, and pointed us toward the mountains of central West Virginia. Today we are discussing Flatwoods, West Virginia, the quiet little town that gave the world the Flatwoods Monster. Now I know some of you are already thinking, Carman, that's a monster, not a haunted house. And you're right. But a place can be haunted by more than ghosts. Sometimes it's haunted by a question nobody was ever able to answer. And Flatwoods has one of those in spades. So if you're into travel and all thinks scary, listen close and you might just discover your next exciting adventure destination. But hopefully not your final destination.

Before we hit the road, a quick note about tonight's story. A man with a drinking problem and a very bad night to be out in the woods. So consider yourself warned and settle in. Destination Terror is an Eeriecast original podcast. And if you enjoy the show, please follow and rate us on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. It really does help us grow, and it helps more fellow travelers find their way to the haunted places. If you have a suggestion for a destination, or a story or experience of your own that you'd like to share, you can email me at carmencarrion at gmail.com. You can also find me at carmencarrion.com, or on YouTube at carmencarrion, where I post videos for my other shows. Over there you'll find Deadly Intent, my true crime psychology podcast about the monsters that are entirely human, where we dig into the minds behind the crimes. You'll also find Carman's Crypt, where I tell original horror fiction. Because sometimes I like to make up new monsters just to keep you awake at night. Both shows are available wherever you listen to podcasts, and you can find everything I'm up to at carmencarrion.com.

And if legends and creatures are more your speed, head over to Freaky Folklore, where we dig up the world's most horrifying legends. You can find it and plenty more scary podcasts at eeriecast.com.

Alright travelers, buckle up. Let's go to Flatwoods, and let's hope our truck doesn't break down.

Wesley Thompson sat at his kitchen table with a half empty bottle of whiskey and a stack of mail he had no intention of opening. He already knew what was in most of it. Past due notices were not hard to recognize. They all came in the same kind of envelope with the same angry red ink. He had been out of work for almost seven months. The lumberyard where he had spent 11 years cut back its crew in the spring, and his name landed on the wrong end of the list. At first he told himself it was only temporary. He filled out applications and made a few phone calls and promised Susan something would turn up. But somewhere along the way the applications stopped and the bottle took over, and if someone had asked him exactly when that happened, he couldn't have told them. The two of them had been married 15 years. 15 years of birthdays and bad winters and Sunday dinners at her mother's house. He had been a good husband once, or at least he remembered himself that way.