Muddy Men are spawned by the unceremonious burial or hiding of a corpse near water. Unnatural beings, they are made of the wet earth they were laid to rest in and the rotting flesh of their remains - produced by Nature's wiles.

Four-legged, nocturnal beasts, they hide beneath the earth until the sun is out of view. Fueled by immense sorrow and anger, they are pushed to the surface where they plague and punish the living. While they may cause pain by fang and claw, they cannot swallow, as their throats are sealed with dirt. The squelch of mud against sticky palms and feet can be heard on the banks of any water source. The pained, wet moan of their kind resounds on quiet nights.

Muddy Men's forms are like that of a hunched man; they have two sharp teeth that jut from their jaw, swollen, cadaverous eyes, and a torso bloated with death. They are coated in a foul, slimy mire that stinks of decay.

Preserved by bog, the beasts are greatly harmed by the sun, drought, or any drying of their flesh. They can be driven out of hiding by pounding the earth with hammers and frightened, eradicated by fire.

Superstition: Burial, Deaths, and the Respect of the Dead

Habitat: Ohio River's riverbank

Diet: does not need nourishment

Reproduction: created by actions; does not reproduce

Society: solitary

Weaknesses: sunlight, heat, dryness

Sentience: not sentient; fills shell of host

Jack fiddled with the coat hook, deep in thought. It had been nearly a month. He was safe. He was. It was time to get out and relax a little. He stared at the door. Was that…? Pulling a scarf from his neck, he scratched furiously at the wood.

Trying to breathe deeply, slowly, Jack felt the pressure building in his chest and eyed the entryway anxiously. Had he missed anything else? The dull wooden floor had never shone so brightly, completely scrubbed of filth. The little room’s walls were freshly painted white. Even the ceiling took on an almost reflective quality. Dust would not be found on the trim, nor dirt in any wooden cracks. Perhaps the door, though, needed a more abrasive cleaning; the porous material drank in stains. But, if there was imperfection here…. What about there? It had been a month, but, still—what if?

The sick feeling returned to his stomach and head. It became harder to breathe. He must go and make sure things were taken care of. He pulled on the coat hook and studied the door. It must be later than this, though. In case. Rhythmically, he tapped his thumb on the metal, thinking.

The door. The door. The door, he thought. The door, first. Grabbing his baggy coat, he decided to grab the plane and scraper from his shed. Hopefully the neighbors had gone in for the evening.

***

A brisk, early-spring breeze blew the stench of the river upland. Relief washed over Jack; fishy was normal. Climbing down a particularly tricky cliff, he was back at the spot. It did not seem that any other living creature had attempted to reach this part of the bank from above. A small oval of gravely mud, there was only a parcel about 7 ft by 3 and nothing of worth to look at or retrieve.

Flooding washing out the cliffsides and neighboring shores, this plot could only be accessed by taking a precarious climb or wading across the swollen river. The cut from the ground nearly a 15 ft drop, if one did not step in the exactly right places, loose dirt and rock would send a climber tumbling below with naught a branch to grab, only brambles and leafless, crumbling vines. Jack had always been good at climbing things, though avoiding the prick and scratch of thorns was nearly impossible.

Standing on the riverbank, he admired his handiwork. If he hadn’t known, he wouldn’t have known. He paced and stomped on the ground; no sinking! His shoes squelched against the mud, a wedge forced into the earth with a last kick. Maybe its condition wasn't as good as he hoped. Pulling his foot free from the mud, the bank grew stickier with each step. Saturated, the mud was now soupy. Staring at his feet, he wondered if the ground had withered away so much to allow water to flow under it. A large raindrop hit Jack on the forehead. And a second, third. A heavy rain could wash the bank all away. Then it would be far, far from here, and that would be better.

Satisfied, he began the climb up; luckily he did not have far to walk home.

***

Everything was finally in order. Jack crumpled onto his bed; it was the first time in a month he had felt able to sleep. Fears and nagging thoughts had finally been laid to rest—he had just needed to see it to feel safe. The gentle rain lulled him to surprisingly pleasant dreams.

A sound woke him up in the night. Not a subtle noise, a loud one, the kind that sends you into an immediate, confused panic. Frozen, on edge, he listened intently.

Smat. Mmmhhrrm. Squik, splench, sput.

Eeeooorugh. Splitch, squish. Ek.

Guh gregh ihc. Squick, sput, smat.

The pitter-patter of rain had continued through the night; the sounds of someone walking outside the cabin were clear, wet smacks. Inch by inch, Jack slithered from the bed and crept towards the window. He could see a shadow on the lawn. It stood still, wobbling slightly in place. Hesitantly, it took an uncertain step, three more, then stood in place. Faint light from a streetlamp vaguely illuminated the thing; slathered in mud, it appeared human but didn’t act right. Didn't look quite right either. The thing took another shaky step. They must have had too much to drink. Fell in the mud, too. Not many people lived in this part of the country, but it was a Friday night.

The figure wandered in a small loop, ambling towards the neighboring cabin. Standing near a window, it wobbled in place. After several minutes, Jack shivered and yawned. Just as he had let go of the curtain, the thing did something strange. Dropping to all fours, it skulked along in the wet mess. On hand and knee, it moved much quicker, more naturally. It continued to eerily moan and gag and jerk around aimlessly. Closer to the light, it turned towards the window; what may have once been a human face was no more: the skin hung, softened and loose on the bone; there was no nose, hair clung in places, fouled by disintegration, ground matter, and mud—but the eyes! The eyes bulged, tripled in size, near to bursting in their rigid sockets. And they shone, but within there was only darkness. No eye whites or irises, completely void. A loud groan demanded Jack’s attention. The sounds were from the monster’s mouth; human teeth protruded from the lips, or, more accurately, were piercing through the lips. They were not in the right place, sort of scattered and rearranged.

Was it… him? No. It had been so long now. It couldn’t be. It couldn't be a person, even. Dead or alive.

Standing, it stared in Jack's direction. Filled with indescribable horror and dread, he was drawn to a bit of cloth around its neck, washed clean by the rain. Breathless, without thought he reached for the axe, forgetting it was long gone. "It couldn't be," he thought, "it couldn't be." The thing's eyes shone brighter as it lurched closer. A soft sob escaped Jack. Of every worry and imagining, this was far worse.

Forcefully ignoring his own questions, the only thought that now raced through his head was that he would have to do it again.

Ohio folklore -

Walking along the river, one can't help but be cautious. Even under the sun's rays, could you wake what is said to wait for you below? Would there be enough light to protect you from the angry dead?

In the Appalachian foothills of Ohio, there are strange tales of horrific figures that live in or near rivers; cadaverous and insatiable, they pillage cemeteries, consume unfortunate animals, and those who wander in their domains after dark. Unlike familiar beasts, who kill and eat out of necessity, the Muddy Men slaughter out of hatred.

Could such a creature exist?

A legend, the remains of lost, harmed, or neglected loved ones will come back to life if they are left to rest near running water; wakened by their graves being stepped upon, rising from shoals and grabbing at the heels of passersby, Muddy Men are a local flavor of zombie. A source of fear, few dare to walk beside rivers after twilight. The consequence of dark deeds, these nightmarish figures influenced not only morality but burial practices and have long bred superstition.

Under muddy banks,

hide the Muddy Men.

Crawling on all four,

they groan and grab and pull below

with terrible, muddy hands.

Born of neglect and malice,

they are beings of the night.

Sealed by dirt and mire,

their muddy mouths can only bite.

Muddy Man Creation

Muddy Men are spawned by the unceremonious burial or hiding of a corpse near water. A few conditions must be met for a Muddy Man to form below ground:

1. The corpse must have died by violent means.

2. The corpse was not given a proper burial, lacking family or friends' attendance, a eulogy, burial in a suitable container, with a grave marker, or met with the grief and sadness of others. Not all of these conditions must be met for a Muddy Man to form, though the more that are met result in a higher likelihood of a Muddy Man forming.

3. One living person connected to the corpse retains negative feelings towards them, albeit it hate, fear, disgust, etc.

4. The corpse is within 50 feet of a river or large creek.

Formation of a Muddy Man

If a corpse is going to become a Muddy Man, it changes greatly. As there is no true rhyme or reason to which corpses become a Muddy Man or not, it is often contributed to "Nature" - which generally translates to the workings of fae. This type of magical transformation is linked to either dark, chaotic fae, like pucks, or more neutral, justice-seeking fae, like nymphs. Other stories seem to imply that a higher power creates Muddy Men or that residual magic within the soil or water itself gives the body new life.

Regardless of what actually makes the creatures, Muddy Men's bodies are slowly intertwined with the wet earth they were laid to rest in. Soil mixing with rotting remains, rock embedding in flesh, bone, the surrounding dirt and debris becomes one with the corpse. Even insects and worms are held captive in the living mire. This causes the human-shaped body to swell, bubble; all portions are thicker and oddly shaped, making it only resemble a person. Some Muddy Men absorb more dirt or organic material than others, further deforming them. This strange combination makes slimy, muscle-like strands that rebuild the body and prep it for Muddy Man life.

As the body takes in what lies around them, the bones soften. Some bones, especially the teeth, sink inward and cluster together. Muddy Men's limbs, rib cages, or pelvises may twist and turn, making arms or other features backwards-oriented, angled oddly, or located on or with another part of the body. Once the absorption phase has ended, the corpse hardens and sets. The skeleton migrates no longer and the creature moves as it is able. Most are able to walk on two legs; all are able to move on all fours, as the Muddy Man formation process seems to prioritize this mobility.

The corpses' death has little influence on its formation; disembodied bodies will meld together as long as they are buried within the same grave.

The formation of a Muddy Man can be paused if someone steps over their grave a week or more into the process. When this occurs, they become active as is, often unable to move and react efficiently - or avoid sunlight/drying out. If they attack a human, they will return to their grave to finish their transformation; they are unable to dig a new hole in this state, so if their return is prevented, they are much more likely to perish. The entire process can take as little as 30 days or as many as 130 days.

Descriptions of a Muddy Man

Muddy Men's forms are like that of a hunched man; they have two sharp teeth that jut from their jaw) found among a plethora or rocks and misplaced teeth), swollen, cadaverous eyes, and a torso bloated with death (if not an entirely bloated body). They are coated in a foul, slimy mire that stinks of decay and drips onto surfaces below. As mentioned in the previous section, Muddy Men may be greatly or minorly deformed. All, however, have pronounced spines, distended bellies, nail-less extremities, and bulging blackened eyes.

Muddy Men are noisy entities. They do not fear being caught or seen - and do not think much at all! The squelch of mud against sticky palms and feet can be heard on riverbanks when they are active. More unnerving, the pained, wet moan of their kind resounds on quiet nights.

Activities of the Muddy Man

Muddy Men are nocturnal creatures. During the day, they hide beneath the earth until the sun is out of view; they may choose to crawl from underground on cloudy, dark days, but flee into the shadows or back into a hovel when any light is spied. Muddy Men do not need to return to or live within their gravesite; they may dig a new resting place for themselves or repurpose the hole of another animal, displace a gravesite, etc. Additionally, Muddy Men do not need to be near rivers for any essential reason - they are said to simply enjoy the sound of water and like to be within hearing range at all times.

Muddy Men are fueled by immense sorrow and anger. Taking it out on any living creature who happens to be nearby, they only desire to plague and punish the living. While these entities may cause pain by fang and claw, they cannot swallow, as their throats are sealed with dirt.

Muddy Men are thought to attack and eat woodland creatures and humans, as well as the remains of people found in cemeteries. This is not so, as they do not consume any substances. Though they may bite and scratch, they do not eat or act as a predator. Muddy Men do raid cemeteries, though only to hide within grave sites; it is suspected that the smell of death attracts the creatures. The removal or opening of a grave allows other organisms to feed or move the remains, making it appear as if Muddy Men are responsible for their disappearance.

Once Muddy Men attack a human, they enter a period of dormancy. Burying themselves near a river, they slumber. The sound of a human walking over their resting place causes them to wake and walk aboveground once more. These "waking sites" can be identified by sunken earth in the shape of a human body; at the top of this silhouette lies a hole filled with scratching and drag marks. Inside reeks a foul smell; the tunnel houses a thick layer of Muddy Man slime.

Muddy Men do not need to eat or drink or perform any other bodily functions. They only exist.

Fears & Weaknesses of the Muddy Man

Preserved by their mucus and soil-laden bodies, the Muddy Men are only greatly harmed by the sun, drought, or any drying of their flesh. Though Muddy Men have no other needs, they must keep their body at least damp. Making them increasingly immobile, the drying of their body depletes their life source; water may revive them from the brink of re-death, but once life is completely gone once more, it will not return - even if Muddy Man creation conditions are met again.

Muddy Man can be driven out from underground by pounding the earth with hammers or causing vibrations by other means. They are greatly frightened by fire and its heat, but are unaffected by artificial lights, like flashlights or street lamps.