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In Greek mythology the hellhound Cerberus belonged to Hades , the Greek god of the underworld. Cerberus was said to be a massive, three-headed black dog that guarded the entrance to the underworld.
Described as a very large dark black dog like creature that in some regions has only 3 toes. It is said to hunt the back mountain roads of Kentucky and West Virginia.
It is likely this legend stems from earlier Scots Irish and Welsh folklore though some claim to see it still today.
Barghest , Bargtjest , Bo-guest , Bargest or Barguest is the name often given in the north of England , especially in Yorkshire , to a legendary monstrous black dog with huge teeth and claws, though in other cases the name can refer to a ghost or household elf , especially in Northumberland and Durham see Cauld Lad of Hylton.
One is said to frequent a remote gorge named Troller's Gill. There is also a story of a Barghest entering the city of York occasionally, where, according to legend, it preys on lone travelers in the city's narrow Snickelways.
Whitby is also associated with the spectre. Another was said to live in an "uncannie-looking" dale between Darlington and Houghton, near Throstlenest.
The derivation of the word barghest is disputed. Ghost in the north of England was once pronounced guest , and the name is thought to be burh-ghest : town-ghost.
Others explain it as German Berg-geist mountain spirit , or Bär-geist bear-spirit , in allusion to its alleged appearance at times as a bear.
Another mooted derivation is "Bier-Geist", the "spirit of the funeral bier". The Bearer of Death is a term used in describing the Hellhound.
Hellhounds have been said to be as black as coal and smell of burning brimstone. They tend to leave behind a burned area wherever they go.
Their eyes are a deep, bright, and almost glowing red. They have razor sharp teeth, super strength, and speed, and are commonly associated with graveyards and the underworld.
Hellhounds are called The Bearers of Death because they were supposedly created by ancient demons to serve as heralds of death.
According to legend, seeing one leads to a person's death. Sometimes it is said to be once; other times it requires three sightings for the curse to take effect and kill the victim.
These factors make the Hellhound a feared symbol and worthy of the name "Bearer of Death". For centuries, locals have told tales of a large black dog with malevolent flaming red eyes.
According to reports, the beast varies in size and stature from that of a large dog to the size of a horse. Sometimes Black Shuck has appeared headless, and at other times he appears to float on a carpet of mist.
According to folklore , the spectre often haunts graveyards , sideroads, crossroads and dark forests. There are legends of Black Shuck roaming the Anglian countryside since before Vikings.
His name may derive from the Old English word scucca meaning " demon ", or possibly from the local dialect word shucky meaning "shaggy" or " hairy ".
The legend may have been part of the inspiration for the Sherlock Holmes novel The Hound of the Baskervilles. It is said that his appearance bodes ill to the beholder, although not always.
More often than not, stories tell of Black Shuck terrifying his victims, but leaving them alone to continue living normal lives; in some cases it has supposedly happened before close relatives to the observer die or become ill.
In other tales the dog is considered relatively benign, and said to accompany women on their way home in the role of protector rather than a portent of ill omen.
One of the most notable reports of Black Shuck is of his appearance at the churches of Bungay and Blythburgh in Suffolk. On 4 August , at Blythburgh, Black Shuck is said to have burst in through the church doors.
He ran up the nave, past a large congregation, killing a man and boy and causing the church tower to collapse through the roof.
As the dog departed, he left scorch marks on the north door that remain to this day. Two men were touched by the beast and fell down dead.
This black dog, or the devil in such a linenesse God hee knoweth al who worketh all, running all along down the body of the church with great swiftness, and incredible haste, among the people, in a visible forum and shape, passed between two persons, as they were kneeling upon their knees, and occupied in prayer as it seemed, wrung the necks of them both at one instant clene backward, in so much that even at a moment where they knelled, they strangely died.
Other accounts attribute the event to lightning or the Devil. The scorch marks on the door are referred to by the locals as "the devil's fingerprints".
In Catalan myth, Dip is an evil, black, hairy dog, an emissary of the Devil, who sucks people's blood. Like other figures associated with demons in Catalan myth, he is lame in one leg.
Dip is pictured on the escutcheon of Pratdip. Christians came to dub these mythical creatures as "The Hounds of Hell" or "Dogs of Hell" and theorised they were therefore owned by Satan.
In Wales , they were associated with migrating geese , supposedly because their honking in the night is reminiscent of barking dogs. They are supposed to hunt on specific nights the eves of St.
John , St. Some say Arawn only hunts from Christmas to Twelfth Night. The hounds are sometimes accompanied by a fearsome hag called Mallt-y-Nos , "Matilda of the Night".
In other traditions similar spectral hounds are found, e. According to Welsh folklore, their growling is loudest when they are at a distance, and as they draw nearer, it grows softer and softer.
Their coming is generally seen as a death portent. The most famous interaction occurred between the dog and a guard.
The guard, emboldened by alcohol, determined that he would find and deal with this haunter. So off he went alone down the corridors of the castle.
Shortly thereafter, his screams were heard. When he was found, he mentioned only the dog. Several days later he died.
It is referred to as "The Dog of Darkness" or "The Black Hound of Destiny ", [ citation needed ] the apparition's favourite haunt being lonely roads at night.
The yeth hound , also called the yell hound is a Black dog found in Devon folklore. According to Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, the yeth hound is a headless dog, said to be the spirit of an unbaptised child, which rambles through the woods at night making wailing noises.
The yeth hound is also mentioned in The Denham Tracts. They are said to be the attendant spirits of churches, overseeing the welfare of their particular church.
English Church Grims are said to enjoy loudly ringing the bells. They may appear as black dogs or as small, misshapen, dark-skinned people.
The Swedish Kyrkogrim are said to be the spirits of animals sacrificed by early Christians at the building of a new church. They are usually feared, but they can also be benevolent, guiding lost travelers to the right road.
In some parts of Lincolnshire and Yorkshire the gytrash was known as the 'Shagfoal' and took the form of a spectral mule or donkey with eyes that glowed like burning coals.
In this form the beast was believed to be purely malevolent. As this horse approached, and as I watched for it to appear through the dusk, I remembered certain of Bessie's tales, wherein figured a North-of-England spirit called a "Gytrash," which, in the form of horse, mule, or large dog, haunted solitary ways, and sometimes came upon belated travellers, as this horse was now coming upon me.
It was very near, but not yet in sight; when, in addition to the tramp, tramp, I heard a rush under the hedge, and close down by the hazel stems glided a great dog, whose black and white colour made him a distinct object against the trees.
Nothing ever rode the Gytrash: it was always alone [ The Gytrash's emergence as Rochester's innocuous dog Pilot has been interpreted as a subtle mockery of the mysteriousness and romanticism that surrounds his character and clouds Jane's perception.
It is huge, black, with eyes the size of saucers and in some versions of the legend a chain which it drags behind it, the sound of which is often the first warning victims have of its presence.
After ambushing its victim it circles them at great speed, terrifying them, although never doing physical harm.
Its appearance is said to herald a storm. It is said to resemble the dog of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, with the pointed ears and thin bodies, but consumed by age old demonic rot.
Its chain portends of its arrival and after circling its prey for a short amount of time it chooses whether or not that soul is worth "tagging" for demonic possession.
Those "tagged" are said to suffer from paranormally bad luck when attempting righteous endeavors and great success at evil, tempting them to commit foul deeds throughout life leaving their soul for the Devil, once they die.
Hellhounds are a common monstrous creature in fantasy fiction and horror fiction, though they sometimes appear in other genres such as detective novels, or other uses.
It is classified as an outsider from the Nine Hells. The hell hound was introduced to the game in its first supplement, Greyhawk The hell hound appears in the first edition Monster Manual.
He has an angry burn scar that covers the left side of his face, narrowly missing his eye and snarling its way across where his left ear should be.
Though still functional, the exterior ear itself has been melted down to a nub. The man looks them both over — from their expensive shoes to their clean, well-ironed clothes.
He rolls his eyes. You bought a tiger and you just figured out it's not a pet, it's a fuckin' tiger. Both researchers exchange looks, then focus on the man at the door.
You came highly recommended by Mr. Wilson — said you're the man to talk about regarding, ah…". The man's brows grind together like gears in a calculation engine chewing over a particularly difficult equation.
Finally, Charlie Smoots steps out of the door, folds his arms over his chest, and nods. Charlie never set out to be a 'Monster-Hunter' — it just kind of happened.
After an IED took away most of his hearing, he left the Army to do rescue work with feral and traumatized dogs.
When one of the dogs turned out to have tentacles, well… it wasn't like tentacles changed the fundamental principles of rehabilitation.
From there, things just got wilder and wilder. It wasn't long before he was looking into reports of a feuding 'dwayyo' and 'snallygaster' in Maryland while teaching a baby chupacabra to stop sucking its owner's cats dry.
Eventually, the Foundation noticed his work. They picked him up as a tracker and handler for anomalous predators.
Now, a lot of anomalous predators can't be trained. Some are too smart; others aren't smart enough. Some aren't capable of bonding with humans — they can't perceive them as anything but food or a threat.
But if it responds to conditioning, adheres to some form of socialization, and is capable of trust? Smoots can work with that. Of course, training an anomalous predator doesn't make it tame — or even domesticated.
Domestication takes hundreds if not thousands of years of selective breeding, and taming requires that on top of human interference during the formative stages of development.
Smoots is the first to point out that a well-trained panther is still a goddamn panther, and a well-trained monster is still a goddamn monster.
But an anomalous predator that successfully bonds with its keeper is healthier, happier, and easier to contain.
It's a win-win for everyone. Samuel Valerio's voice is tense. It doesn't sound like the researcher is expecting much — and Charlie can see why. On the other side of the blast-proof glass is a twenty-foot wide room with thick calcium silicate panels.
Water sprinklers along the ceiling run constantly, filling all but a small corner with a heavy mist.
In that one dry corner, six columns of human-sized flame 'sit'. They flutter and smolder, poised at the edge of the water-cloud. Allen Sendek corrects him.
Support," Dr. Valerio insists. Provide surveillance, snuff out fires, create cover, and yes — even act as mobile artillery if the need arises.
Think of them as… a combat K-9 unit. Valerio says. Also, if they 'eat' enough material, they reproduce. Initially, these 'progeny' would attack their parents, but we discovered that —".
Sendek says. There's a hint of pride in his voice. Valerio frowns. Valerio gestures to a bulky, insulated cover-all. It resembles a canine bite-suit, but with a full-head helmet and mask.
It has its own internal cooling system and an air-supply. The fabric is a dark, dull seaweed green. After about half a minute of reflection, he turns to Dr.
Valerio: "Okay. What do they eat? The suit is heavy but flexible. Charlie can feel the coolant pumping through a complex lattice of arteries beneath the dark green padding.
The internal O2 tank keeps the interior operating at a positive air-pressure, with a bell that rings if the supply drops below half.
All in all, this thing is a lot more comfortable than he expected. Though he's still pretty sure he won't be running a marathon in it.
The chamber's entrance is enclosed in a prefabricated modular containment chamber that incorporates a pneumatic air-lock.
As he steps in, he hears the door behind him hiss shut. There's three loud beeps. He gives Dr. Valerio a thumbs up.
The interior door then slides open, permitting little waves of water to roll in. The six pillars of fire instantly respond. Although they're shapeless, Charlie gets the sense that they're facing him.
The biggest one nudges up against the cloud of water. There's a sharp flash of steam accompanied with an explosive ssss ; then, there's a high-pitched squeal.
It resembles super-heated air escaping a narrow nozzle. Charlie does his best to shield the bundle of papers he's holding from the mist, then taps his side of the glass.
Three water sprinklers shut off. The flames are still boxed in, but Charlie now has an 'dry' path to the center of the room. Slowly, he strides forward.
The biggest flame leaps at him. Again, there's a flash of steam followed by a high-pitched squeal. The five smaller flames mimic the motion, producing smaller squeals.
Charlie waits for them to calm down. He then continues to the center of the room, bending forward to set the bundle of papers down. When he stands up, the largest pillar lunges.
An appendage as thick as Charlie's thigh whips out to slam into his chest. Steam and smoke issue forth from where the fireball hits, pushing him back.
He feels the heat seeping through to his sternum. Charlie recovers quickly, jogging backward. The pillar of flame that attacked him is smaller, now — but the others still huddle around it.
Charlie grimaces in pain as he makes his way to the modular chamber, never turning his back to the flame. Now out of the suit, Charlie gulps down a bottle of water while watching through the glass.
Sendek shuts down several more sprinklers, giving the flames a path to the massive stack of redacted documents in the center of the chamber.
The pillar that attacked him creeps forward. Once it's reached the stack, it extends tiny tongues of fire to lick at the stack's corners.
The other five pillars then follow, joining it at the center. Together, they descend on it like a horde of hungry piranhas devouring a blood-soaked slab of beef.
Charlie finishes the bottle of water and wipes the glistening perspiration from his forehead. Others just followed. Their Queenie.
Still not sure. But all in all? This looks good. They've got a clear social structure going on, here. See how she went out first? To make sure it was safe.
Like the oldest sister checking both ways before leading her brothers and sisters across the road. Charlie shakes his head. You saw how hard she hit me — she's got the juice for it.
But all she did was nibble. Like she was showing the others that it's safe. She's looking out for them, protecting them.
They're like a family. And if they're a family, that means they can form bonds with each other. And if they can form bonds with each other? The undertaking is not easy.
Training any wild animal — particularly one that's long past its window of developmental socialization — is a herculean undertaking.
It requires patience, compromise, and humility. Sometimes, you just gotta accept that a feral cat might never let you pet her, a wild dog might never let you leash him, and a living fireball might never stop trying to set you ablaze.
Fortunately, Charles Smoots is a persistent man. There are seven days in every week, and he spends six of them working to acclimate a family of sentient fire to the presence of human beings.
It is a process measured in only the smallest of increments — but a measurable process, nevertheless.
After just a week, he's gotten them to stop attacking the glass when the sprinklers are off. After two, the smaller flames stop joining in on the attacks.
After three, Queen won't attack when he first walks in. But even after a month of counter-conditioning, she still refuses to let him leave without taking her parting shot.
It's like she's fulfilling an obligation: he opens the door, walks in, sets down some delicious fuel, and she thwacks him with flames.
Thanks for lunch; now here's that fireball I'm contractually required to hit you with. By week four, he's starting to wonder if it's performative.
Charlie's managed to teach them to self-regulate their consumption of oxygen through incremental changes in the sprinkler system.
By now, the sprinklers are always off; the flames are permitted to grow so long as they don't pass any of the clear boundaries Charlie has set if they do, the sprinklers come right back on.
But when they feel threatened, they always return to the same familiar corner.
Their eyes are a deep, bright, and almost glowing red. They have razor sharp teeth, super strength, and speed, and are commonly associated with graveyards and the underworld.
Hellhounds are called The Bearers of Death because they were supposedly created by ancient demons to serve as heralds of death. According to legend, seeing one leads to a person's death.
Sometimes it is said to be once; other times it requires three sightings for the curse to take effect and kill the victim. These factors make the Hellhound a feared symbol and worthy of the name "Bearer of Death".
For centuries, locals have told tales of a large black dog with malevolent flaming red eyes. According to reports, the beast varies in size and stature from that of a large dog to the size of a horse.
Sometimes Black Shuck has appeared headless, and at other times he appears to float on a carpet of mist.
According to folklore , the spectre often haunts graveyards , sideroads, crossroads and dark forests. There are legends of Black Shuck roaming the Anglian countryside since before Vikings.
His name may derive from the Old English word scucca meaning " demon ", or possibly from the local dialect word shucky meaning "shaggy" or " hairy ".
The legend may have been part of the inspiration for the Sherlock Holmes novel The Hound of the Baskervilles. It is said that his appearance bodes ill to the beholder, although not always.
More often than not, stories tell of Black Shuck terrifying his victims, but leaving them alone to continue living normal lives; in some cases it has supposedly happened before close relatives to the observer die or become ill.
In other tales the dog is considered relatively benign, and said to accompany women on their way home in the role of protector rather than a portent of ill omen.
One of the most notable reports of Black Shuck is of his appearance at the churches of Bungay and Blythburgh in Suffolk. On 4 August , at Blythburgh, Black Shuck is said to have burst in through the church doors.
He ran up the nave, past a large congregation, killing a man and boy and causing the church tower to collapse through the roof. As the dog departed, he left scorch marks on the north door that remain to this day.
Two men were touched by the beast and fell down dead. This black dog, or the devil in such a linenesse God hee knoweth al who worketh all, running all along down the body of the church with great swiftness, and incredible haste, among the people, in a visible forum and shape, passed between two persons, as they were kneeling upon their knees, and occupied in prayer as it seemed, wrung the necks of them both at one instant clene backward, in so much that even at a moment where they knelled, they strangely died.
Other accounts attribute the event to lightning or the Devil. The scorch marks on the door are referred to by the locals as "the devil's fingerprints".
In Catalan myth, Dip is an evil, black, hairy dog, an emissary of the Devil, who sucks people's blood.
Like other figures associated with demons in Catalan myth, he is lame in one leg. Dip is pictured on the escutcheon of Pratdip.
Christians came to dub these mythical creatures as "The Hounds of Hell" or "Dogs of Hell" and theorised they were therefore owned by Satan.
In Wales , they were associated with migrating geese , supposedly because their honking in the night is reminiscent of barking dogs. They are supposed to hunt on specific nights the eves of St.
John , St. Some say Arawn only hunts from Christmas to Twelfth Night. The hounds are sometimes accompanied by a fearsome hag called Mallt-y-Nos , "Matilda of the Night".
In other traditions similar spectral hounds are found, e. According to Welsh folklore, their growling is loudest when they are at a distance, and as they draw nearer, it grows softer and softer.
Their coming is generally seen as a death portent. The most famous interaction occurred between the dog and a guard.
The guard, emboldened by alcohol, determined that he would find and deal with this haunter. So off he went alone down the corridors of the castle.
Shortly thereafter, his screams were heard. When he was found, he mentioned only the dog. Several days later he died. It is referred to as "The Dog of Darkness" or "The Black Hound of Destiny ", [ citation needed ] the apparition's favourite haunt being lonely roads at night.
The yeth hound , also called the yell hound is a Black dog found in Devon folklore. According to Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, the yeth hound is a headless dog, said to be the spirit of an unbaptised child, which rambles through the woods at night making wailing noises.
The yeth hound is also mentioned in The Denham Tracts. They are said to be the attendant spirits of churches, overseeing the welfare of their particular church.
English Church Grims are said to enjoy loudly ringing the bells. They may appear as black dogs or as small, misshapen, dark-skinned people.
The Swedish Kyrkogrim are said to be the spirits of animals sacrificed by early Christians at the building of a new church.
They are usually feared, but they can also be benevolent, guiding lost travelers to the right road. In some parts of Lincolnshire and Yorkshire the gytrash was known as the 'Shagfoal' and took the form of a spectral mule or donkey with eyes that glowed like burning coals.
In this form the beast was believed to be purely malevolent. As this horse approached, and as I watched for it to appear through the dusk, I remembered certain of Bessie's tales, wherein figured a North-of-England spirit called a "Gytrash," which, in the form of horse, mule, or large dog, haunted solitary ways, and sometimes came upon belated travellers, as this horse was now coming upon me.
It was very near, but not yet in sight; when, in addition to the tramp, tramp, I heard a rush under the hedge, and close down by the hazel stems glided a great dog, whose black and white colour made him a distinct object against the trees.
Nothing ever rode the Gytrash: it was always alone [ Valerio gestures to a bulky, insulated cover-all. It resembles a canine bite-suit, but with a full-head helmet and mask.
It has its own internal cooling system and an air-supply. The fabric is a dark, dull seaweed green. After about half a minute of reflection, he turns to Dr.
Valerio: "Okay. What do they eat? The suit is heavy but flexible. Charlie can feel the coolant pumping through a complex lattice of arteries beneath the dark green padding.
The internal O2 tank keeps the interior operating at a positive air-pressure, with a bell that rings if the supply drops below half. All in all, this thing is a lot more comfortable than he expected.
Though he's still pretty sure he won't be running a marathon in it. The chamber's entrance is enclosed in a prefabricated modular containment chamber that incorporates a pneumatic air-lock.
As he steps in, he hears the door behind him hiss shut. There's three loud beeps. He gives Dr. Valerio a thumbs up.
The interior door then slides open, permitting little waves of water to roll in. The six pillars of fire instantly respond. Although they're shapeless, Charlie gets the sense that they're facing him.
The biggest one nudges up against the cloud of water. There's a sharp flash of steam accompanied with an explosive ssss ; then, there's a high-pitched squeal.
It resembles super-heated air escaping a narrow nozzle. Charlie does his best to shield the bundle of papers he's holding from the mist, then taps his side of the glass.
Three water sprinklers shut off. The flames are still boxed in, but Charlie now has an 'dry' path to the center of the room.
Slowly, he strides forward. The biggest flame leaps at him. Again, there's a flash of steam followed by a high-pitched squeal.
The five smaller flames mimic the motion, producing smaller squeals. Charlie waits for them to calm down. He then continues to the center of the room, bending forward to set the bundle of papers down.
When he stands up, the largest pillar lunges. An appendage as thick as Charlie's thigh whips out to slam into his chest.
Steam and smoke issue forth from where the fireball hits, pushing him back. He feels the heat seeping through to his sternum.
Charlie recovers quickly, jogging backward. The pillar of flame that attacked him is smaller, now — but the others still huddle around it. Charlie grimaces in pain as he makes his way to the modular chamber, never turning his back to the flame.
Now out of the suit, Charlie gulps down a bottle of water while watching through the glass. Sendek shuts down several more sprinklers, giving the flames a path to the massive stack of redacted documents in the center of the chamber.
The pillar that attacked him creeps forward. Once it's reached the stack, it extends tiny tongues of fire to lick at the stack's corners.
The other five pillars then follow, joining it at the center. Together, they descend on it like a horde of hungry piranhas devouring a blood-soaked slab of beef.
Charlie finishes the bottle of water and wipes the glistening perspiration from his forehead. Others just followed.
Their Queenie. Still not sure. But all in all? This looks good. They've got a clear social structure going on, here. See how she went out first?
To make sure it was safe. Like the oldest sister checking both ways before leading her brothers and sisters across the road. Charlie shakes his head.
You saw how hard she hit me — she's got the juice for it. But all she did was nibble. Like she was showing the others that it's safe.
She's looking out for them, protecting them. They're like a family. And if they're a family, that means they can form bonds with each other.
And if they can form bonds with each other? The undertaking is not easy. Training any wild animal — particularly one that's long past its window of developmental socialization — is a herculean undertaking.
It requires patience, compromise, and humility. Sometimes, you just gotta accept that a feral cat might never let you pet her, a wild dog might never let you leash him, and a living fireball might never stop trying to set you ablaze.
Fortunately, Charles Smoots is a persistent man. There are seven days in every week, and he spends six of them working to acclimate a family of sentient fire to the presence of human beings.
It is a process measured in only the smallest of increments — but a measurable process, nevertheless. After just a week, he's gotten them to stop attacking the glass when the sprinklers are off.
After two, the smaller flames stop joining in on the attacks. After three, Queen won't attack when he first walks in. But even after a month of counter-conditioning, she still refuses to let him leave without taking her parting shot.
It's like she's fulfilling an obligation: he opens the door, walks in, sets down some delicious fuel, and she thwacks him with flames.
Thanks for lunch; now here's that fireball I'm contractually required to hit you with. By week four, he's starting to wonder if it's performative.
Charlie's managed to teach them to self-regulate their consumption of oxygen through incremental changes in the sprinkler system.
By now, the sprinklers are always off; the flames are permitted to grow so long as they don't pass any of the clear boundaries Charlie has set if they do, the sprinklers come right back on.
But when they feel threatened, they always return to the same familiar corner. When Charlie enters the room with today's snack a stack of kerosene-soaked logs — their favorite , all six are in the corner.
They're still there when he sets the stack down. Hidden categories: Articles lacking sources from June All articles lacking sources. Namespaces Article Talk.
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Ich werde wohl einfach stillschweigen
Diese bemerkenswerte Idee fällt gerade übrigens
Aller ist nicht so einfach