Rougarou - The Crossroads

Summary

Podcast Summary: Spooked – "Rougarou: The Crossroads"
Host: Glynn Washington
Guest: Beldrin Forrest
Release Date: October 31, 2025

---

Overview

In this atmospheric episode of Spooked, host Glynn Washington takes listeners deep into the bayous of South Louisiana, where ancient curses, family warnings, and the legendary Rougarou haunt the marshes. The main story is told firsthand by Beldrin Forrest, who recounts a harrowing childhood encounter with the creature at the dangerous crossroads between belief, tradition, and the supernatural. The episode explores how generational stories, rituals, and personal experience intersect to reveal both fear and a deeper lesson about good and evil.

---

Key Discussion Points & Story Highlights

1. Setting the Stage: The Crossroads & Witch’s Bargain

[00:08] - [04:56]

• The episode opens with Glynn Washington reciting a haunting parable about a witch’s bargain and a sacrificial ritual at the crossroads. It’s a cautionary prelude, setting an ominous tone.
• The narrative weaves themes of consent, fate, and the weight of generational curses:

  “I turned the curse into a spell. But what I spoke found me as well.” (A, 00:08)
  “My mother’s echo. Be careful who you love. Don’t break young girl’s heart.” (A, 03:46)

• The story establishes that “some people carry marks, whether they know it or not,” dovetailing into the idea that supernatural stories and creatures are inextricably linked to family and community.

2. Introducing Beldrin Forrest and the Bayou

[09:44]

• Beldrin shares his upbringing in Chauvin, Louisiana, highlighting a self-sufficient lifestyle bounded by swamps and family tradition:

  “To us, if you went to town, that was like taking a vacation.” (Beldrin, 09:56)

• The family’s adherence to Catholic rituals and lore, especially the spiritual significance of All Souls and All Saints Days, is emphasized as Beldrin recalls his mother’s warning:

  “My mom had told me to never kill any animals on those two days. Because when the spirits were on the earth, you wouldn’t draw blood and take a spirit.” (Beldrin, 12:01)

3. The Rougarou Encounter

[~17:00 – 26:00]

• On a chilly November evening, young Beldrin ventures into the woods with his dog Misty, feeling invincible with his new shotgun.
• An eerie silence falls: no birds, insects, or rustling—unusual in the normally teeming bayou.
• While stalking a rabbit, he’s paralyzed by the sudden appearance of a monstrous figure:

  “The rabbit was probably about maybe 60 feet from me...the blood reeds opened up and there was a hand, like a human hand, but it had like big claws sticking out...then this foot stepped out, but it was a dog foot.” (Beldrin, ~19:40)

• Beldrin’s description of the Rougarou is terrifying—“at least 9 to 10 foot tall...body covered in fur...face like a long dog...eyes were red...fangs the size of his hands.” (Beldrin, ~20:45)
• A physical and metaphysical chase ensues, with Beldrin sensing the creature’s growl and breath on his neck:

  “Could feel this hot breath on the back of my neck...I kept playing it over and over again. This thing’s gonna get me.” (Beldrin, ~22:30)

• Bursting from the woods into his yard, he realizes “I ran clean out of one of my boots.” His mother immediately discerns what happened—no words needed.

4. The Legend and Its Lessons

[~27:00 onwards]

• Beldrin’s mother asks if he drew the Rougarou’s blood, referencing an old curse:

  “Legend had it that if you saw a rougarou and you drew his blood, his spirit was released from the curse. But if you spoke of it, what you saw before a year and a day, your spirit then accepted the curse.” (Beldrin, 27:36)

• She shares a family story: as a child, her sister was saved from a snowstorm by a mysterious animal—possibly the Rougarou in a kinder form.

  “That little girl was my aunt, my mama’s sister. My mom said, it’s okay. It didn’t hurt you. But she said, it’s trying to teach you a lesson.” (Beldrin, 29:27)

• Beldrin reflects on the Rougarou’s duality—at once both a feared enforcer and a potential protector:

  “Hearing the story, I knew that the Rougarou wasn’t just a bad spirit. Sometimes it did things to help people…this thing was stopping me from doing something wrong.” (Beldrin, 30:09)

5. Aftermath, Reflection, and Contemporary Resonance

[~31:30 - End]

• Beldrin describes a lasting change in his outlook:

  “Today, when I go in them woods, I feel this thing. I can still feel that…groan, that growl, the vibrations that I felt that day when I walk in them woods...at any given time, this thing can come back.” (Beldrin, 31:56)

• Glynn Washington closes with an invitation to the Rougarou Fest, a celebration started by Beldrin in Houma, Louisiana—a communal reframing of fear into tradition.
• Glynn offers meta-commentary on monsters—“not because of who they are…but because of what they do”—drawing a parallel between supernatural infection and the insidious spread of intolerance, dehumanization, and moral transformation in society:

  “They infect. One bite, one scratch, and now you are them…People I’ve known my whole life…turn and casually insist to me why it is good to lock children in cages...And I wonder, where was the bite that made the change?” (Glynn, 35:07)

• A final note of hope and vigilance:

  “The only thing we can do is to never, ever…turn out the light.” (Glynn, 37:23)

---

Notable Quotes

• [00:08] Glynn Washington (A): “I turned the curse into a spell. But what I spoke found me as well. You’ve almost reached the crossroads from Spooked. Stay.”
• [20:45] Beldrin Forrest (B): “This thing was at least 9 to 10 foot tall. It had human form, but its body was covered in fur...its face, it was like a long dog face. The eyes were red and it had long fangs like a wolf.”
• [27:36] Beldrin Forrest (B): “Legend had it that if you saw a rougarou and you drew his blood, his spirit was released from the curse. But if you spoke of it, what you saw before a year and a day, your spirit then accepted the curse.”
• [35:07] Glynn Washington (A): “They infect. One bite, one scratch, and now you are them…People whom I love turn and casually insist to me why it is good to lock children in cages.”
• [37:23] Glynn Washington (A): “The only thing we can do is to never, ever…never ever turn out the light.”

---

Timestamps for Major Segments

| Timestamp | Segment | |------------|----------------------------------------------| | 00:08 | Haunting prologue: The crossroads | | 09:44 | Beldrin’s childhood and the bayou | | ~17:00 | Entering the woods & ominous silence | | ~19:40 | Sighting of the Rougarou | | ~22:30 | The chase | | 27:36 | The Rougarou curse explained by mama | | 29:27 | Family legend: Rougarou as protector | | 31:56 | Lessons learned and lingering presence | | 32:18 | Rougarou Fest & credits | | 35:07 | Glynn’s reflection: Monsters across worlds | | 37:23 | Closing message: Don’t turn out the light |

---

Memorable Moments

• The moment Beldrin’s mother immediately senses his encounter—“You saw it, huh?”—without a word said. (24:39)
• The family story of the Rougarou protecting a lost child in a blizzard, reframing the monster myth. (29:30)
• Glynn’s closing meditation on monsters within society, and what it means when neighbors “turn.” (35:07 – 37:23)

---

Tone and Language

The episode maintains a hushed, reverent, and intimate tone—rich in Southern cadence, lore, and immediacy. Beldrin’s storytelling is plainspoken but vivid, while Glynn’s narration is poetic and philosophical, weaving together family history, personal terror, and broader reflections on the dark and light within communities.

---

In summary:
"Rougarou: The Crossroads" is a chilling yet deeply human episode about facing the unknown, the power of ancestral warnings, and reconsidering the nature of the monsters—both supernatural and in our own hearts. It tugs listeners between fear and hope, folklore and insight, reminding us that sometimes the darkness is not just outside, but something we must navigate within ourselves.

Transcript

[A]

I turned the curse into a spell. But what I spoke found me as well. You've almost reached the crossroads from spooked. Stay. Every 30 years, they rebuilt their altar, the temple they called the Round. And there they dance and sanctify a child as their new Messiah. I knew nothing of their scripture except that they were witches that dealt in magic and blood and spirits. But witches that paid good coin. Still, I refused or entreated to build the Round. Choose another, I told the elder, my head bowed low. When they came to ask again, it was not the crone who knocked, nor her soldiers, but a woman torn from dream, a beauty made of song. I felt in every eye in the village burn with envy and fear as I invited her inside. Her smell was like moonflower, her smile happy memories. I bade her sit and pretended I would not instantly do anything she asked of me. She accepted tea and said simply that it was foretold that I was the One. The One. And that anything I desired was mine to ask. Anything but I must build the temple. Anything, she said meaningfully. I am no innocent. But I swear to you now, I did not touch her. I did not. I simply agreed. I knew of their ways that he who builds the temple participates. And their rights. I understand if the temple plans had come from an unholy hand. I appreciate that messiahs are born from sacrifice. But none of this was my affair. I worked like a fever with stone and chisel, hammer and claw, to inscribe the lines of power from the scroll into the altar for the final inscription. I asked what the charged symbols meant, the crossed line. She said it like describing the weather. The altar, of course, requires the builder's blood. My blood. You ask too much. Far too much. And as if waking from a dream, I put down my tools and walked away. She followed me. No. Witch. No. I will not bind myself to this coven. Not even for such as you. But you are the One, she whispered. I will dance. That night I thought it a dream. When she came to me, her hot breath on my neck, the delicious pain when she bit into my throat. I pushed her away. That no, witch. My blood is my own. She pulled away. Then hurt splashed across her face. And like smoke, she vanished. My mother's echo. Be careful who you love. Don't break young girl's heart. The next day she did not come to the temple, nor the next. For 40 days and 40 nights I searched. But who could stand when she's in demand? I saw her then, in our family's courtyard, with my own mother, whose face shone with joy and surprise. Why did you not tell me? She said, laughing. I looked first the woman's flashing eyes, then, with the bundle clutched in my mother's arms, my first grandchildren. I fell back, confused, lifted the blanket from the baby's face. And my own eyes blinked back at me.

[B]

No.

[A]

No, no, no, no, no. Mother. This child is not my son. What? Look at him. Would you deny your own child? The gleam of triumph in the woman's eyes. What magic is this? She is not my lover. She is a witch from the forest who chanced that I am the one. But this child is not my son. My mother spat in my face then. I warned you about young girls. Hard, she hissed, be careful what you do, lest your lies become the truth. And she turned and walked with the baby and the mother inside the courtyard, leaving me locked outside. For 40 days. The village treated the child as sacred, fed him blessed and prepared him. On the 40th night, they brought him to the round. The witch waited at the altar, my mother beside her, weeping, knowing the whole village watching. Your blood, the witch said simply. She held out a blade. The child or you? I knew he was not mine. I also knew she made no idle threats. I took the knife, then slashed the flesh of my palm and let my blood feed the hungry altar my own hands had built. The stone drank. The lines of the round began to glow. The witch smiled. The child's eyes, opened my eyes. I understood then. This was always the bargain. The witch turned to the crowd. I felt my strength fail, my life soaking into the stone. Rain began to fall. My mother wailed. I swayed, hollow, and as I staggered, the floor started to pulse, a heartbeat of stone and blood. Then she stepped into the rhythm, bare feet shining red. The villagers stamped with her, keeping time. Faces blank, eyes shining. She pressed close to me then, her breath hot against my ear. You are the one, she whispered. And laughing, she danced on the floor in the round. Spooked the final episode of the Crossroads starts now. You see, some people carry marks, whether they know it or not. We're headed to the bayous of South Louisiana, the place where stories get passed down from one generation to the next about good and evil, about life and death, and the beings who walk between both worlds. Our story begins in 1979, in the fall. The days are getting shorter, the air a bit cooler, and the veil a little thinner. Spooked.

[B]

Sam Sa My name is Beldrin Forrest. I was born in Chauvin, Louisiana. We're surrounded by swamplands and marsh. Any further south than us, you Would be in the water we lived in. I guess I'm gonna call them some shacks. But to us, that was really nice houses because that's all we had. We didn't know anything different. So we was satisfied with what we had. And to us, our way of living was you go catch fish, you go hunt animals, you grew your vegetables, you didn't mingle with a whole lot of outside people because we wouldn't go to town. To us, if you went to town, that was like taking a vacation. I think I was 8 or 9 years old. For Christmas, I got a pellet rifle. I was so excited because now I could actually do hunting myself because all my older siblings could hunt, and I was the only one that couldn't hunt. I used to take a slingshot and try to shoot stuff, but it was hard to kill things with slingshots because you had to be really close. And once I got my pellet rifle, well, then I was able to go out and I could actually get food for the family. So I would hunt rabbits, I would hunt neutral stuff that wouldn't move very fast. Raccoons, small birds. When I made 13, then I got my shotgun, it was nothing for me to go and hunt by myself. I felt like I belonged in the woods. I would go in the woods by myself and I'd climb the trees and I'd listen to the birds. That was my sanctuary. That was my place to go and relax. One day I came home from school and a cold front had hit, so it was pretty nippy. And my dog, she was a red bone, but we called her Misty. She was ready to hunt as soon as the cold front would hit. So when I got home, as soon as I came into the yard, my dog jumped the fence and got out of her pen and came running to me. In the excitement, I just went inside, dropped my school bag down, grabbed my shotgun, changed my clothes, headed out the door. Me and the dog took off. We're going into the woods. Not realizing that the day before was Halloween. I was raised Catholic, and in a Catholic society, there's two days out of the year that is held sacred. That's All Souls and All Saints Day. That's the two days that follow. Halloween, Halloween. Everybody think it's the time to go party and have bonfires and stuff. But back in the day, people would prepare for the coming of the spirits. The next two days is when the spirits could come back and walk the earth. And my mom had told me to never kill any animals on those two days. Because when the spirits were on the earth. You wouldn't draw blood and take a spirit. But when you're growing up, a lot of times what your parents say, you hear it, you take it in, but you don't live by it until something happens that causes you to remember what your parents said. Me and a dog was walking, and she is full of energy. And I was excited myself. And the coolness was in the air. And there's a lot of underbrush, like thorns, BlackBerry vines. And in the wintertime, the sun sets a little bit early. So the sun started going down. I must have walked at least three miles. We hadn't even seen a squirrel to shoot. Not even a bird is like, my God. I said, everything's gone. It seemed very odd. Usually the beginning of the hunting season, that's when you get most of your animals. And there's always frogs, lizards. A mouse is going to run from your feet as you're walking in the grass. So when you're walking, there's always something that's going to rustle in the leaves. But it was dead quiet. It kind of threw me off. It made it felt weird, like I was not where I was supposed to be. My dog started to notice too, I guess, because normally she was out running ahead of me, running all over the place. But here she stayed at my feet. She followed me step for step. So I told the dog, I said, well, we're gonna walk back on the headlands to go back home. Because it was prime feeding grounds for the rabbits, especially in the late evenings. The rabbits always came out on that headland. Now, the headland, they had this grass. It kind of looks like an okra plant, but we call them blood reeds. I'm not sure what the real name of them is, but when you cut them with a knife, their SAP is red. So we call them blood reeds. And these things grow real tall all summer. So about this time, they're about 15 foot tall, and we're walking along, and it makes a wall right along where the grass was cut. So I was following along the edge of that grass, and up ahead, I could see a rabbit. So I told the dog, I said, stick down. I said, that rabbit's gonna see you. It's gonna run. So we kept sneaking up, sneaking up, sneaking up, sneaking up. I'd stay real close to those blood reeds so that way the rabbit wouldn't see me. And when I picked up the gun and I started eyeing the rabbit to shoot, as I was pulling the aim, these blood reeds started vibrating. Like they were trembling. It was loud, very loud. So I looked at the grass and the whole levee. The whole side was shaking, like something was shaking each one of these grass. But the wind was not moving. This was a calm, quiet. Not even a bird making a sound day. So I looked up a little bit. The rabbit was probably about maybe 60ft from me. And in between me and the rabbit, the blood reeds opened up and there was a hand, like a human hand, but it had like big claws sticking out of his fingers. And it wrapped the blood reeds and pulled them back. This foot stepped out, but it was a dog foot. When that thing stepped out of the grass and I could see his entire body, immediately my heart just, it like stopped. I could feel the blood just drop out of my face. This thing was at least 9 to 10 foot tall. It had human form, but his body was covered in fur. And it was dark. Couldn't tell if it was brown or black, but it was a dark colored shade. And its face, it was like a long dog face. The eyes were red and it had long fangs like a wolf. Fangs the size of his hands. And his teeth could shred me like a popsicle. And it wasn't wearing a shirt, but it had a pants that was shredded like to pieces. And I'm just looking at this thing. I'm frozen. I could hear my heart in my ears and my brain is saying, run. But my feet is like, we ain't going. I can't move. And then they just turned his head towards me real slow. And it looked at me, it was drooling. And it gave me a low growl, like from way down deep, kind of like thunder that's off in the distance. And it just carried. When it did that, I knew that this thing was not going to be playing. That's when my feet said, okay, time to go. And I bolted. I cleared that ditch with one jump and was running through the bars. I could feel the vines and the thorns catching me as I was running. It was ripping my flesh away. But I could hear this thing right behind me. Each footstep sounded like it would get closer and closer to me. When his foot hit the ground, you'd hear that low rumble, that growling. And it sounded like he was right behind me. But I never, never looked back behind me. I just knew if I stopped or if I hesitated to look behind me, this thing was gonna have me. I'm running as fast as I can. And I kept looking ahead to try and find a way to lose this thing, make it Lose its footing or find a small hole to crawl through where he can't fit. But it's like this thing just was right on me the whole time. And I couldn't do nothing about it. Could feel this hot breath on the back of my neck. And I could feel this rumble, this growl, just in my bones, in my mind. I kept playing it over and over again. This thing's gonna get. This thing's gonna get me. At some point, I got the edge of the woods. And when I saw the briar started to thin out a little bit, I ran even faster because then I could step quicker. And as I broke through the clearing to get by my house, it stopped. It stayed in the woods, but I kept running. And as I got to the house, I slowed down a little bit, but I was panting. I was out of breath. And when I looked down at my arms and my clothes was all scratched up, like, all torn, my arms were bleeding. And when I got to the porch, my dog was already on the porch. Evidently, she got out of the wood before me. I'm shaking, and I realize I ran so fast. I ran clean out of one of my boots. I took my other boot off and I went inside. My mama was sitting in her chair. And when I went through that door, she looked at me and she said, you saw it, huh? She just knew, because the condition I was in, I just shook my head and said, yes, ma'. Am. It was understood that it was the rougarou. As a child, I was told that the rougarou was watching you. And that when you do something wrong, the rougarou is going to get you. I've heard of people dying in a deer stand or in the marsh. Their eyes and their mouth was wide open. Death, how they found them. Like they were scared to dip. The way that it was handed down in legend, the rougarou was this guy that had a curse put on him. A lady near New Orleans in the 1800s, she used to practice witchcraft. She had summoned a demon to possess somebody. When the demon took over the person's body, he could go back and forth and shape shift whenever it felt that it was needed. My mom, she just said, you saw it, didn't you? But she didn't ask me what I saw. And then she asked me, did you draw his blood? Because legend had it that if you saw a rougarou and you drew his blood, his spirit was released from the curse. But if you spoke of it, what you saw before, a year and a day, your spirit then accepted the curse. And you became the rougarou. So my mom asked me, did I draw his blood? And I shook my head no. But my mama didn't want to take a chance. She told me, do not speak of it for a year and a day. Because she didn't want me to turn into the ruga room. She said, get cleaned up. So I went, took my shower, got out. We ate supper. But the whole time, I could visualize that thing was just gonna rip me to shreds. I was trying to eat, but my hand was shaking still. My mama, she could tell that I was still shook up. She made us a cup of coffee. She said, sit down. We're going to talk. She starts telling me the story of when she was younger, that they had a snowstorm. And it don't normally snow down here in South Louisiana, but they had a snowstorm that had came in. It was in the evening, and a little girl was playing near the wood line. She got turned around when the snow hit. So she wandered into the woods instead of out of the woods because she couldn't tell with the snow. So everybody else started looking for her. As they were looking, the lanterns kept blowing out, and it was getting dark, and the storm wasn't letting up. So they just knew that they had to come in because they was going to die in the cold. They said that they were just going to go back and look for the little girl. The next day, they was searching for a body. They crossed a clearing, and in the middle of the clearing, they had a big oak tree. And one of the men went by the oak tree, and when he got there, he hollered for everybody to come. The little girl was laying underneath the oak tree in a circle with no snow. The little girl was still alive. She told him when the storm hit, a big bear caught her, and he curled up with him. And the whole time the snow was going to. He stayed with her. I get emotional every time I tell listen. Because that little girl was my aunt, my mama's sister. My mom said, it's okay. It didn't hurt you. But she said, it's trying to teach you a lesson. It's like a light switch went off inside me. Because hearing the story, I knew that the Rougarou wasn't just a bad spirit. Sometimes it did things to help people when it was in trouble, that it wasn't just out to hurt people, that sometimes it did good things. Because why else would the rougarou helped a little girl? She wasn't really doing anything bad. She was just playing by the woods and got lost. And looking back, my little short legs could never have outrun that. That thing. He could have caught me before I got off the levee, plucked me off the ground. I'm just a little bitty squirt. Could have shredded me up and spit out the bones, but it didn't. It just chased me and it scared the living hell out of me. Why would it have done that to me? This thing was stopping me from doing something wrong. That's the only thing I could see. But what would have happened if I'd have shot that rabbit? I don't know. My mama said, say your prayers and go to bed. So I said my prayers. I asked God to forgive me. I was scratched up and shook up, but I was alive. And when I laid down, I felt peace. I did not go back hunting for the rest of that year in them woods. I live in the same house. I'm still in the same place. I didn't go anywhere else. Today, when I go in them woods, I feel this thing. I can still feel that. That groan, that growl, the vibrations that I felt that day when I walk in them woods. And since then, I do my best to treat others correctly because I know at any given time, this thing can come back. It might not be as happy an ending if it comes back.

[A]

Thank you. Thank you, Beldrin, for sharing your story with the Spookin. Spooksters. We know you want to know more. Even though Beldrin survived his run in with the Rougarou, not everyone is so lucky. So if you refine yourself in southeast Louisiana around this time of year, please do not go alone into the marsh. Instead, head over to the Rougarou Fest. It's an event that our friend Beldrin helped get started and takes place in Houma, Louisiana every October. More information in our show Notes. This story was scouted by Evan Stern. The original score is by Doug Stewart, was produced by Zoe Frigno. This is the end of the crossroads. We've chased monsters, seen demons, face madness. But do not mourn. Do not despair. Spooksters, our quest continues. If you yourself face the dark shadow, let me know. [e-mail] because there's nothing better than a spook story from a spooked Listener. [e-mail] and yes, snap judgment. The podcast, our good twin podcast has amazing stories from the bright light of day. Spook lives at the intersection of hope and of fear. The Spooked underground catacombs lie deep beneath KQED in San Francisco. Do not seek to find this place. Does this place seek to find you as the oligarchy creates machinery to steal your very thoughts? We make this declaration to the wind and to the lawyers that absolutely know SNAP Studios content may be used for training, testing or developing machine learning or AI systems without prior written permission. The crossroads is brought to you by the Spook team, who all know that fire is hot, except for Ms. Mark Ristich, who insists on testing it each and every time. On Team Spooked, the union represented producers, artists, editors and engineers are members of the national association of Broadcast Employees and Technicians, Communications workers of America, AFL CIL Local 51. And there's David Kim, Zoe Ferrigno, Eric Yanez, Teo Dicott, Marissa Dodge, Myles Lassie, Elliot Lightfoot, Su Yi Chu, Evan Stern, Yves Jeffcoat, Eshal Lopez, Jack Darrell, Doug Stewart. The Spook theme song is by Pat Meshidi Miller. So is this open, but my name is Glenn Washington. And what scares me is monsters. Yes, but particular type of monster. Zombies. Vampires were creatures not because of who they are. I can fight monsters because of what they do. They infect. One bite, one scratch. And now you are them. Communities, families turn on each other, abandon who they were, what they believed. And yes, yes, I've seen that in my own family, my own communities. People turning. People I've known my whole life, People I've known to be wholesome, to be caring. People whom I love turn and casually insist to me why it is good to lock children in cages. How it is okay to hunt our neighbors. They shout that hunger and sickness is the fault of the hungry and the sick and that they are them and we are us. And I wonder where was the bite that made the change, the transformation and horror of horrors? Are they still there inside, trapped, afraid, waiting for the song to call them back out from the darkness? What can save them? What can save us? I don't know. I don't. But even in despair, even in sorrow, I am certain that the only thing we can do is to never ever, never, never ever, never ever, both for them and for us. Never, ever, ever turn out the light.

[B]

It.