Ethereal Chronicles

It was not long after the sun began to dip below the horizon that I noticed the wind beginning to rise more harshly, howling with a relentless force that tore through the air and thrashed the initial calm of the waves. And there, in the water, I was sure I could see a man.

Now, anybody else would have surely retreated, moved further into the safety of the shore behind them, but I had been cursed with a heart too full of compassion, and I could not bring myself to leave without attempting to save him.

“SWIM THIS WAY!” I cried out, lifting my skirt and tossing my shoes aside so that I could paddle a little into the water. Rain had begun to fall, spattering my face with icy droplets and soaking my hair. The man seemed to drift towards me, his head bobbing unnaturally, and I felt a chilling realization that he was not alive. There was no fear in his face, no hint of struggle, and as he drew nearer I saw that he looked bloated and swollen. The sight frightened me so much so that I scrambled back out of the waves, back onto the familiarity of the sand.

I thought perhaps the figure might go away, be swept by the churning current, but he emerged from the expanse of foam around him to walk on land. But this was no man. It was a corpse, beneath which were not legs but the sturdy form of a horse. The body sagged unnaturally, connected to the creature’s back, and its head, too large for the torso, seemed ready to topple from the strain.

The horse looked flayed and raw, its body a map of pulsing muscles and wiry veins filled with black blood. It continued to walk towards me, glaring into me with a singular, red eye.

In all this time I could easily have fled, for it did not move quickly, but I found myself rooted to the spot by sheer terror, my body refusing to obey. Only when the creature reached my face did the paralysis break, and a scream tore from my throat.

As I did so, its mouth opened in unison, and the dead man’s long, slippery arms reached out to grasp my shoulders. The horse whinnied, a grating, ghastly sound that carried with it the foul stench of death and disease, and the mouth opened wider and wider until it stretched impossibly, moving to swallow me in a singular bite.

Perhaps the most terrifying creature to ever be spoken of in Scottish folklore is the Orcadian demon, Nuckelavee.

APPEARANCE AND ATTRIBUTES

The Nuckelavee is an aquatic demon, much like the Kelpie, only far more fearsome. In the depths of winter, this creature emerges from the sea to unleash terror upon humans. It is blessed with far greater powers, and only one spirit, the Mither of the Sea, is capable of controlling it.

A Nuckelavee’s appearance has been recounted in a number of gruesome ways, with many descriptions portraying it as a horse on land, with the slimy torso of a man fused to its back. This “man” bears little resemblance to a human, with no visible legs and unnaturally long arms that drag along the ground. His head, absurdly large and misshapen, lolls on his torso, too heavy for his neck to support.

The horse beneath him is equally unsettling. Typically skinless, it is covered with a mass of veins filled with black blood, and muscles that pulsate with every movement. A singular, red eye replaces two ordinary ones, and the mouth is as large as a whale’s.

But as well as being incredibly grotesque in appearance, the Nuckelavee has the ability to wreak havoc across entire towns. The breath of the creature alone can destroy crops and spread life threatening diseases to both humans and livestock. In some stories, its influence extends as far as weather control, with short bursts of rain being responsible for poor harvests and widespread suffering.

WEAKNESSES

The Nuckelavee’s only well known weakness is its inability to traverse freshwater. Thus, any encounter with the creature can be cut short by wading through a stream or river, through which it cannot cross.

During the summer months, the Nuckelavee is confined to the depths of the sea by the Mither of the Sea, the only being from Orcadian folklore capable of controlling the demon.

THE MITHER OF THE SEA

In Orcadian folklore, the ocean is governed by two spirits; the Mither of the Sea, and Teran.

Teran oversees the harsh conditions of winter, and in spring, he engages in a battle with the Mither of the Sea for control of the seasons. Teran, a proud and stubborn spirit, is reluctant to relinquish his position so easily.

During this time of battle, tumultuous storms sweep the coasts, and the land echoes with the sounds of their howling.

When the Mither of the Sea eventually does take Teran’s place, she uses her power to imprison the Nuckelavee. She also brings calm to the sea, ensuring that the aquatic creatures within it are fertile and able to reproduce.

By the end of the summer, however, the Mither of the Sea’s efforts have exhausted her, and Teran siezes the opportunity to regain control. This leads to yet another fierce battle, during which the skies grow darker and the sea more violent. As the wind intensifies, Teran emerges victorious once more and begins preparations for the coming winter months.