There’s something out there in the most remote corners of the Appalachian Mountains. Not a creature from folklore, not a cryptid or ghost story. Something much closer to us—and somehow, much more terrifying because of it. In this episode, we go deep into the hills to explore the legend of the fer...
There’s something out there in the most remote corners of the Appalachian Mountains. Not a creature from folklore, not a cryptid or ghost story. Something much closer to us—and somehow, much more terrifying because of it. In this episode, we go deep into the hills to explore the legend of the feral people of Appalachia—humans who turned their backs on civilization so long ago, they may have forgotten what it means to be part of it at all. It all starts near Whitetop Mountain, where a dying man named Mercer calls a few people together to share stories passed down through mountain families for nearly two centuries.
These aren’t the kind of tales you’ll read in a book or hear from a park ranger. These are the stories folks only tell in quiet voices, far away from outsiders.We follow one of those stories back to 1978 in Mullins Hollow, Kentucky. A little boy named Thomas vanished from his yard in the middle of the day—his mother just a few steps away. Three days later, his father says a woman stepped out of the woods, filthy and wild-eyed, holding something small in her arms. She smiled, put a finger to her lips, and disappeared into the trees.
Then there’s Ronald Clayton, a game warden who thought he’d seen everything—until a search for a missing boy in 2013 led him to a hidden settlement deep in the forest. He found the child, painted with strange symbols, surrounded by makeshift shelters and a smoldering fire. When he tried to escape, he realized they weren’t just following him—they were herding him.
Letting him wear himself out before they made their move. He got lucky that day. Most people wouldn’t. Back in 1963, a geology professor and his team stumbled onto something sealed deep underground. A hidden chamber the size of a football field—stone shelters, fire pits, carved beds, and bones. So many bones. In one corner, seventeen pairs of children’s shoes. Different sizes. Different decades. He never put any of it in his official report.And in 1972, the Hensley family in Virginia lived through something they still won’t talk about without a shake in their voice.
It started with missing tools, then livestock, then faces at the windows. One foggy morning, a gray-haired woman came out of the woods and said, “Give us the girl child, and we’ll leave you in peace.” The farmer opened fire. A week later, every animal on their farm was dead. One word was written in blood on the side of their barn: OWED.
Throughout the episode, we talk about the signs—the silence in the woods when the birds stop singing, the strange stick figures and markings left at the edge of the forest, the voices that call your name in the dark.
These people don’t attack groups. They prefer the ones who are alone. They prefer children.This isn’t a story about monsters. It’s about what happens when people cut all ties to the world and build their own. A world where different rules apply. A world where survival is everything. They’ve been here for generations. And they’re very good at staying hidden. Unless, of course, they want to be found.