Heart Starts Pounding: Horrors, Hauntings, and Mysteries - 154. Christmas Horror Folklore: Krampus, Frau Perchta & The Other St. Nick

Episode Date: December 2, 2025

Today I want to tell you about the dark origins of Christmas, before Santa Claus ever existed. We're diving into Frau Perchta, a Christmas witch who visited homes with iron scissors and a taste for porridge...whether she had to cut it out of you or not. We'll also cover the real Saint Nicholas and his disturbing miracles, and the demonic Krampuses who worked alongside him to drag sinners straight to hell. This beloved holiday is actually as dark as a Brother Grimms fairytale…. Subscribe on⁠ Patreon⁠ to become a member of our Rogue Detecting Society and enjoy ad-free listening, monthly bonus content, merch discounts and more. Members of our High Council on Patreon also have access to our weekly after-show, Footnotes, where I share my case file with our producer, Matt. You can also enjoy many of these same perks, including ad-free listening and bonus content when you subscribe on Apple Podcasts . Follow on⁠ Tik Tok⁠ and⁠ Instagram⁠ for a daily dose of horror. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Get no frills delivered. Shop the same in-store prices online and enjoy unlimited delivery with PC Express Pass. Get your first year for $2.50 a month. Learn more at pceexpress.ca. Today, I want to share with you the very real and very dark stories behind some of our most beloved Christmas characters. For instance, did you know that St. Nick used to send naughty kids to the pits of hell? Or that he gets a lot of inspiration from a Christmas witch, that would cut naughty children into pieces.

This beloved holiday is actually about as dark as a brother's grim fairy tale. Welcome back to Heart Starts Pounding. I'm your host, Kayla Moore. And today, it feels great to be cozied up here in the Rogue Detecting Society headquarters. I love this time of year. And as you know, if you're a regular,

one of our favorite things to do is talk about folklore. We've talked about terrifying tales from Appalachia, some of the origins of Gothic horror, and even holidays like Halloween. But today we're going to be talking about Christmas. Specifically, I want to get into some of the darker pagan folklore and traditions that worked their way into what the Catholic Church had intended to be a celebration of the birth of Christ. There's actually quite a bit of dark folklore hiding around this holiday if you know where

to look. And just a reminder, if you like true crime cases that read like Gothic horror, mysteries that will keep you up at night, and let me check my notes here, tales of witches that pull out children's organs like in today's story, well, you're in the right place. You are just like me. Wherever you are, make sure that you follow along, subscribe, leave a comment, all of that good stuff. And quickly, before we dive in, I do want to say a big thank you to everyone who listens to the ad-supported version of this show and to all of our sponsors that make it possible to do all of the research and editing that it takes to make this show. This year, I think we put out 56 free episodes of Heart Starts Pounding. That's the most we've

ever done in history. And this month, we're going to be donating a portion of the ad revenue to Feeding America, a network of food banks where 98% of donations go directly to programs and services that help people facing hunger. So thank you to everyone listening for making that possible. Okay, let's get into it. And to start, I want to tell you about a pagan holiday witch that predates St. Nicholas. It's when your heart starts pounding. Before we had Santa Claus, we had a Christmas witch known as

frau percheda. She hails from southern Germanic folklore the same place that gave us the brother's grim. However, she would have made even Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm clutched their pearls and horror. Because even though Frau Perchta shares some similarities with the modern-day Santa Claus, like wanting to know if children had been bad or good, she is far more macabre and violent than Santa. In her legend, she would visit children's homes on the eve of winter solstice. when children are good, she would bring them nothing, but if they were bad, well, they were about to find out. It was the eve of the winter solstice many, many years ago.

A young girl named Lena played with her doll by the fire in her family's small home in Austria. Across the room, Lena's mother spun flax on her loom to make linen. She stopped, realizing that it was time to make the porridge for dinner. She asked Lena if she would continue to spin the flax, but Lena just wanted to keep playing. Her mother's face grew serious, and she grabbed Lena by the shoulders, explaining to her that tonight of all nights, she needed to obey, because tonight was the wild hunt.

The wild hunt is a band of evil creatures led by the goddess Perchta, Frau Perchta, as she's called by those who fear her. Lena's mother explained that Frau Perchta had skin made of iron. She had a long, crooked nose covered in metal warts. She wears only rags as to hide her single, large, clawed foot. When she arrives, the goddess looks around the house to see if you've completed your chores. If you haven't, then she'll shred your pillow and toss the soot from the fire all over the floor. If you've left unspun flax, she'll smear it with her own excrement, leaving your family without anything to make linen.

You'll be cold and miserable the rest of the winter. But none of that compares to what she'll do if you don't leave her some porridge. If you're selfish and you eat all of the porridge for yourself on the night that Perchta comes, she'll take out her long iron scissors and cut open your stomach. She'll get her porridge, even if she has to cut it out of you. Before Lena could ask if this was all true, there was a sound at the door. The door to the hut flew open. A bitter wind carrying ice and snow filled the room and nearly extinguished the fire.

For a moment, Lena feared that Frau Perchta had arrived. But it was not a goddess. It was her father who was coming in from the cold with extra firewood. She ran forward to give him a big hug. The family settled down for the night and focused on their meal. Lena noticed that her father and mother only ate half of their porridge. Before she could take another bite, her father reached over and took her own bowl from her. She was hungry.

She wanted to finish her porridge. But her father shook his head. He stood up and carried his bowl and Lena's over to the fire, placing them at the hearth. Her mother followed behind her with her own bowl. They reminded her that frau percheda was coming that night, and they needed to leave some porridge for her and her perched in, the spirits that followed her in the wild hunt. It was time for bed, but her mother warned her to be a good girl

and finished spinning the flax before she went to sleep. Her parents then went to bed on the far side of the hut, pulling animal skin curtains shut all around them for privacy. Lena was left alone now, wondering what to do next. She was tired and she was still hungry. She looked between the bowls sitting at the hearth, the loom in the corner, and the curtain where her parents were sleeping. She moved towards the hearth, picking her bowl back up and swallowing big mouthfuls of porridge. One bowl wasn't enough.

She wolfed down her mother's bowl and her father's bowl as well. But the time she was done, she was so full that she could hardly move. She was sleepier than ever. The fire was warm and her chores. seemed impossible to do now. So she laid down and her eyelids closed. Outside, the night grew colder and darker. The wind picked up and then a blast like a trumpet woke Lena from her sleep. The fire blew out. It was pitch black in the hut. Lena called out for her parents, but she got no answer. She couldn't see anything. She could only hear the wind and then a cacophony

of sounds, hooves, clopping, horses neighing, bells jingling, shrill, high-pitched laughter in the distance, and above it all, a voice that was both beautiful and horrible, singing a strange song that went like this. So you shall not escape, my old broomstick, the whips, the rod, with which I'll beat you until you're red with blood. Your hands and feet I'll bind and throw you into the mire. Set fire to your braids and hair, scratch your face and cut your nose, and rough you up quite well. All your dolls, I'll toss and burn and shred your finest Sunday dress. When I find you snoring late in bed, I'll reel your intestines out from your belly and fill the hole with wood shavings. The door to the hut then flew open, unleashing a freezing wind a hundred

times worse than the wind from before. It coated the inside of the hut, turning every surface to ice. She turned around in horror, looking to her parents' bed. Her eyes were wide as she saw their curtain had been blown away, and they were lying completely still. Their eyes open in shock, their skin pale and white as the moon, icicles hung from their noses and chins. They had been frozen to death. A cackling noise from the direction of the door drew Lena's attention back around. She turned in time to see several horrible shapes enter the room. They were monsters, covered in hair with terrible horns protruding from all directions. Their faces were covered with twisted, hateful wooden masks, and their long forked tongues licked the air searching

for prey. These were the perched-in, twisted servants of the goddess. They held Lena down, who screamed in protest, but this only made them laugh more. Lena trembled from head to toe as the icy wind chilled her all over. Her stomach sank and her skin turned to goose flesh as a new figure arrived at the door. The hulking crone was bathed in moonlight and covered in ice. Her long crooked nose was sharp iron just as Lena's mother described. But the story hadn't mentioned, though, were perched as hateful yellow eyes. which were horrible pinpricks in the darkness.

As she glided forward without a sound, she produced a crooked pair of shears from beneath her robes. Frau Perchta had come to collect. She lowered the scissors toward Lena's body. And then she began to cut. And the other monsters cackled with glee as they surged forward ready to have their solstice feast. Now this story might sound like a dark fairy tale,

But it was something that ancient Europeans really believed in. People would really leave their porridge bowls half full on the eve of the winter solstice to leave it out for Perchta. And this is a very ancient, much less tasty version of leaving cookies and milk out for Santa. How the porridge looked in the morning also predicted your luck for the next year. If you heard Perchda slurping in the night, you knew that your house was blessed. If you went back to look at the bowl in the morning and you found the spoon had moved, you were cursed and you were going to have. have bad luck all that next year. But worst of all, if your spoon had completely fallen into the bowl, then you were doomed to die later that year. Most hoped that a blessed household meant

that they would soon be having children because children meant that there were more hands around the house for help. And once children reached working age, Perchto was a useful tool for keeping them in line. If a child didn't do their chores in these ancient times, it could have serious consequences for the family. Like animals not getting milked, flax not getting spun, crops not getting harvested, that all meant that the family could potentially starve or freeze in the winter months. So by telling the children that Perchda would destroy their homes if they didn't do their chores, they had this illustrative way of conveying the importance of housework and the dangers of winter. Perchda was also evoked to keep children safe, though. Wandering off into the woods

could have deadly consequences. You could get lost. You could get eaten by wolves. You could get kidnapped. So parents would tell children that Perchda was in the woods to keep them from the real danger. So Perchda was in a few ways this kind of eerie, dark female Santa. But you might be surprised to learn that she was also the first trick-or-treater. This is just like a fun fact I found while we were researching this episode. But Halloween and Christmas were once essentially the same holiday. In ancient times, pagan communities harvested their crops and slaughtered their animals around late October or early November to get ready for winter.

They would celebrate the season and make offerings to gods like Perchta. They believed that some. spirits such as her would be walking the earth that night. And they thought that this was why their days were growing shorter and colder. Young men in these communities would act out this belief by dressing up in creepy costumes meant to look like percheda and her minions. They would smear their faces with animal grease, they would tie hay around their waists and wear animal pelts, or they would even create these elaborate horned masks. And then they would knock on doors and say something like, children or bacon, or I won't go away.

And this was to mimic Perchta, either taking your child or getting her food offering. It was kind of like trick or treat. But as the pagans got better at farming and animal husbandry, they could harvest later and later in the year, sometimes waiting until December. So depending on the area and the community, the harvest might be celebrated at two different times, once in late October and then again in December. And when Christian missionaries started to visit these communities to convert them, they would try to pull them away from their pagan beliefs by replacing pagan holidays with different Christian ones. And that, at least in part, is how the late October, early November festivals became All Saints Day.

But the pagans still celebrated another harvest celebration in December, and the Christians needed to transform that one into a Christian one as well. And so maybe you see where I'm going with all of this. So slowly over time, percheda transformed into Santa, which is why early Santa and St. Nick folklore is absolutely terrifying, which I want to tell you about now. This episode is brought to you by Kachava. If I have to pick between nutrition and convenience and a meal, especially getting into the extra busy holiday season, guess which one tends to win? Yeah, convenience. But luckily, with Kachava, I don't have to pick. Kachava is a whole body meal shake with 25 grams of plant-based protein, no artificial flavors, colors, or sweeteners, and it comes in six indulgent flavors. With every two scoops of Kachava, you get 85 plus superfoods, nutrients, and plant-based ingredients. I love Kachava because it's delicious.

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you might be wondering how she went from a child eating death goddess to the Santa that we have today. Well, there's actually an important figure who helped this transformation happen. You've probably heard of Santa being referred to as St. Nick, an official saint of the Catholic Church who they believed performed miracles. But what you might not know is that he wasn't originally this jolly Austrian man with a white beard. We haven't quite made it to that version just yet in our tour of dark holiday folklore. St. Nicholas was originally Greek and he lived in the Mediterranean and his beard was probably much darker in color.

St. Nick did travel down chimneys, but not to deliver presents for reasons that are honestly upsetting and his miracles were disturbing, to say the least. It was a cool, clear night in Byzantium or Turkey today. Nicholas was a wandering priest searching for three young boys who recently went missing in the area. Their parents were horribly worried, and to make the situation even worse, it was soon going to be Christmas. The thought of this drove him onward, eager to reunite the boys with their parents. But eventually, the chilly winter air got the better of Nicholas, and he admitted to himself that he needed to seek shelter and resume his search for the boys in the morning. So he stopped by a small inn on the side of the road. The lights were all off, and he knocked

on the door, half expecting no answer. But after a few moments, he heard some rustling and a latch being undone. The door creaked open inward, exposing a sinister figure lit only by candlelight. The very sight of the man on the other side of the door filled Nicholas with dread. His face was covered in strange blotches. He had only one good eye glaring out from beneath a single bushy eyebrow. When he opened his mouth to speak, he had these rotten brown teeth framed by a greasy black mustache. Nicholas showed some coins he had and said that he was looking for a place to spend the night. The innkeeper glared at Nicholas and let out a huff, but he took the coins and he waved him inside. As Nicholas surveyed the inn, he found something

unsettling. At the center of the room, situated over a massive hearth, set a large black kettle simmering with some unknown dinner. The smell was enough to nearly chase Nicholas back outside. It smelled horrible, but something urged him back on. He wanted to see what was inside the pot. He slowly walked forward, lifting the lid on the kettle. His eyes stung and he pinched his nose to protect from the assault on his senses. The stew was even more foul up close. His eyes stopped stinging just long enough for him to get a good look at the contents. And there, simmering amongst the potatoes and turnips of the stew were several sets of small human hands and feet.

And then a portion of a face bubbled to the surface and he recognized it immediately. Nicholas realized that he had found the three missing boys. Before the innkeeper could even react, Nicholas pushed him to the ground. And then turning back to the pot, he placed his hand above the contents. He refused to accept that this was the end

that the children had come to. Not like this, not so close to Christmas. Channeling his faith deeper than he ever had before, he reached out into the cosmos, beseeching the Holy Spirit to aid him. Without thinking and without knowing what he was about to say, he issued one solemn command, rise up children. This unnatural light filled the room. The innkeeper was instantly blinded, and Nicholas didn't look away for an instant. He watched as the light fell, upon the kettle before him, lifting all the contents out from the pot. And then the body parts of the slain boys glimmered with this angelic light as they slowly churned in the pot and came back together. And soon, the dismembered corpses were made whole, lowering to the floor of the inn. As the light

dimmed, the children's eyes shot open and they jumped to their feet. When they saw the innkeeper struggling blind on the ground, they all screamed, but Nicholas promised that they were now safe. Leaving the innkeeper, Nicholas guided the children home, and this was considered by the church to be one of his many miracles. A few days later, Nicholas resumed his travels, making his way to a large town on the coast. At first, he wasn't sure why God had brought him to this place, but he followed his instincts and he was led to a home at the center of town. It was a two-story structure with this really large chimney. And as Nicholas looked it up and down, a passing old woman noticed him, and she shook her head.

She told him a very sad story. The owner of the house had gone completely bankrupt. He had three daughters, but with no money, he could not pay their dowry. And with no dowry, he had no choice he felt, but to sell his daughters to traveling sailors. And this transaction was going to take place the following day at a local brothel. But the man decided that it was worth it so that he could have some money. Nicholas was obviously disturbed by the story when he heard it, and he decided that he had to do whatever he could to save these girls.

Now, Nicholas, being a very saintly man, had given away most of his money to charity. But he realized that his family still had a small portion of money at a local bank. So he took it upon himself to make a full withdrawal of what his family had left, and he filled a sack that he had with him with this gold. That night, he wrapped himself in a shawl tightly around his body and climbed up the side of the merchant's townhouse with his bag of gold. slung over his shoulder. Not wanting to be detected, he saw no other option than to enter the

house through the chimney. He carefully lowered himself down through the narrow space, trying his hardest not to sneeze at all the soot, and when he got out of the chimney, he bumped into something soft and wet, squinting in the moonlight, he saw that the merchant's three daughters had hung their stockings to dry above the fireplace. Now, Nicholas knew that a father who was so proud he would rather sell his daughters to sailors than admit bankruptcy would never accept charity from the church. He knew that he must perform a miracle, or rather he had to make his gift look like a miracle. So he took the gold from his bag and he filled each stocking to the top. Once his bag was empty, he climbed back up the chimney. The next morning, Nicholas once again

waited outside of the house watching. A smile crept across his face when he heard the sounds of rejoicing from inside. The daughters had been spared from being sold off at the brothel because of his miracle. Suddenly, the front door flew open and the father stumbled to the street, his arms full of gold. He gave thanks to God, convinced that a miracle had occurred, not knowing that it was actually the generosity of Nicholas. Now, the actual historical figure we know as St. Nicholas lived and died between 270 and 3.43 AD, and clearly his legend has changed a ton since then, but now, when you see a Christmas movie of Santa carrying a sack of presents down a chimney for children, you'll know what he was actually doing all of those years ago. In the 1100s, when Catholic missionaries were trying

to convert Europe, these were the types of stories that they were telling in places like Austria. And soon, the pagan Austrians who believed in Perchden and Frout Perchda were blending their myths and legends into the Catholic ones. And I guess leaving behind some of the child mutilation parts. This episode is brought to you by Symbiotica. Staying on top of your health journey can be really tricky. I'm on the go a lot and it's becoming increasingly harder to make sure that I'm getting everything I need.

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they started to portray the pagan deities as weak and subservient to the Christian God and saints. Folk spirits like the Perchton could no longer be worshipped as forces of nature, both good and evil. They had to be looked at as exclusively evil. This is according to the church. And they also had to be subservient to St. Nicholas, who was now being looked at as kind of the saint of Christmas.

By the 1500s, these pagan creatures came to resemble Christian demons, basically. Instead of long fur and wooden masks that they used to have in the stories, they now had short hair, hooved feet, claws, and angry little pinched faces. The word perched in literally translates to bright one, and over time, that word was changed to a different word. Crampus. Crampus means claw. Because, according to the church,

That's what they do. They claw at your door to get in. Now, you've heard the name, maybe you've even seen the movie, but the legend has changed over time. Nowadays, people think of crampus as a sort of singular, demonic anti-Santa. But originally, crampus was not one creature, but many, crampuses. And they didn't work against Santa. They actually worked with him. Artwork from throughout history shows crampuses covered in chains that are held by St. Nicholas.

you can see the chains of Christianity and the church would sponsor morality plays in different villages showcasing this dynamic. An actor would be dressed up as St. Nicholas holding the chains that were attached to the crampuses and he would judge the children as bad or good. If they were good in this era, they received presents.

But if they were bad, well, that's where the legend of Perchta still kind of reared its head because if they were bad, things could still get very, deadly for them. It was St. Nicholas's Day, December 6th, 1572, in a town in Austria. A young boy named Andreas was watching the annual parade through his town. It was a frightening display. All of the local men were dressed in crampus costumes, which included big fur suits and terrifying horned masks. They

carried whips and switches and smacked anyone in the crowd who wandered too close to them. Some of the women would actually offer up their bottoms to be smacked, and this made on Andreas blush. Some of the younger boys offered up their own bottoms just to show that they weren't afraid of the crampuses. But Andreas was afraid, very afraid. No matter how many times his parents told him that the crampuses weren't real, he just didn't believe them. Sometimes when he was out chopping wood behind the house, he felt like something in the woods was watching him. Sometimes he swore he heard giggling and hissing coming from between the trees. He was sure that it was the crampuses waiting to drag him to hell.

The night of the festivities wound down and the men in town removed their crampus suits, Andreas finally felt like he could calm down enough to go to bed. He snuggled under the covers in his small bedroom beneath the stairs of his family's home. He watched the glow from the fireplace in the living room cast shadows through the door and across his wall. The light calmed him, easing his fears about the crampuses. But just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he noticed something strange. He noticed something strange.

The light from the living room was getting brighter. It was no longer the soft glow of a fireplace, but the bright golden glow of something otherworldly. The light grew until it was practically blinding. Andreas jumped from his bed and he ran out into the living room. And there, in front of the fireplace, an old man with a long white beard and bright red robe appeared. He had a large open book in one hand

and a staff with a cross and the other. Andreas instantly recognized him as none other than St. Nicholas. He realized that he had come to give him presents. Andreas ran forward, but St. Nicholas held up a hand to stop him. First, he needed to read from his book to determine what sins and what good deeds Andreas had committed throughout the year. If he had done more good than bad, he would get presents. But if not,

Andreas turned, hearing a sudden scratching at the door. Long shadows were cast by the moonlight through the windows, creating silhouettes of the one thing Andreas feared above all. But before he could scream, Nicholas started to sing. God's greetings all within the house. I'm friend to all, St. Nicholas. Have no fear, just look at me. No wild stranger here you see.

My coming marks the years near end. This forest man, my basket, deeds good and bad we must review. With ringing bells comes crampus too. What brings him joy brings terror to you. And then the door burst open. Two actual live crampuses stood in the doorway, more horrible than Andreas could have ever imagined.

They weren't anything like the fake ones from the parade. Their faces weren't covered by masks. They had these big black eyes with glowing red irises, long, sharp noses pointed downwards from the center of their faces, and worst of all, they had massive, wide mouths like some kind of unholy clowns, mouths lined with sharp yellow teeth, writhing forked tongues slithered from between these teeth, anxious to get a taste of Andreas, and above all, they had short, stubby horns, nothing like the majestic animal horns from the costumes at the parade.

Their bodies were covered in bristling black hair like a bull's, Their muscular arms ended in twitching hands with thick, sharp black claws at the end of each fingertip, and they had legs like goats, bent backwards at the knee ending and charcoal black hooves. The crampuses raced towards Andreas. He tried to duck underneath his coffee table, but each one grabbed him by an ankle and dragged him screaming out in front of his fireplace. St. Nicholas stood firm, reading from his book. He read Andreas's good deeds, how he helped him.

his father out around his shop, how he cleaned his room, how he was kind to his friends. But St. Nicholas also read about his sins from the year, the time he stole a candy bar from a market stall, the time he cursed after stubbing his toe, the time when just earlier today he looked at a maiden with lust in his heart. The crampuses were overjoyed to hear all this. They dragged him further towards the fireplace so close that Andreas could feel the flames on his skin. They hoisted him to his knees and held his face right next to the fire. The flames filled his field of view. Andrea stared into them and found his mind transported across space and time. Within that small fireplace, he caught a glimpse of infinite suffering in a dimension separate

from our own. It was a portal to hell now, and the crampuses could not wait to throw him in it. But then, Andreas heard the shrill sound of a whistle. He was pulled away from the fire, only to find St. Nicholas was the one with a whistle held to his lips. It was a pleasant and melodic sound, but the crampuses immediately stopped and covered their ears. They quickly ran to St. Nicholas's side, cowering and quivering at the foot of his robes. St. Nicholas had weighed Andreas's deeds, both good and bad, and found him worthy. It was time for his presence. Andreas trembled as he accepted the gifts, some chocolates, some dried fruit, socks.

He could hardly believe how quickly his luck had changed. But as St. Nicholas and his companions faded from view, the evil creatures waved mischievously. There was always next year. So Andreas vowed right then and there, for the next 365 days, he would be a good boy. Ever since the ancient Europeans gave up the worship of Purchsta and her Perchton, they have instead observed a tradition wherein locals dress up as crampuses in service of St. Nicholas. And this even continues to this very day. In Austria, the house visit is an important part of this tradition.

After parading through the streets, crampuses are invited along with St. Nicholas to visit homes and weigh children's good deeds versus their bad deeds. They can also be accompanied by female angels. and a woodsman who does the actual passing out of gifts. Sometimes St. Nick will recite good and bad deeds from the child whispered to them by their parents, but more often than not, the child just has to sing a song or recite a poem and then they get a gift. But then, just as St. Nick gets ready to leave, the crampuses attack, jumping all around the house, pretending like they're about to knock over whatever piece of furniture the kid is hiding behind.

And then St. Nick blows his whistle and the assistants step in stopping the crampuses. In the 21st century, many people all over the world have learned about these strange traditions through the internet. That's how we over here learned about them. And a whole new wave of crampas mania has swept over the globe, kind of reinvigorating the character for a new century. Commercial crampus events have multiplied in recent years to attract tourists. And the virality of crampus even led to a movie that was released in 2015 that I quite enjoy,

if I'm being honest. But though, Crampus might seem horrible to all. us, and some of these traditions seem to border on child abuse a little bit, they harken all the way back to the ancient identities of different European ethnic groups. Austrians in particular are a very proud people who survived the conversion to Catholicism, centuries of medieval warfare, and an invasion in both World War I and World War II. Cranpas events are a way for them to reassert their cultural identity after years of outside influences trying to force them to change. And much of today's dark holiday folklore might seem like the antithesis of the Christmas

spirit to us. But for many Europeans, it's nostalgic. And it makes them think of all the wonderful traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation over hundreds and hundreds of years. And that is why I love learning about dark history. It's not just the dark origins of Christmas. It's the preservation of folklore and tradition. And you get to see how much of it has changed and warped over times so that these pagan beliefs could remain embedded in Christmas traditions. And for parents everywhere, it teaches their children to be good unless they want to be gutted or dragged to the pits of hell. But what about you guys? What is your favorite holiday tradition? No matter what holiday it is, I love diving into the dark history of these. So maybe I'll do another

episode on that in the future. And that is all I have for you for this week's episode. Thank you so much for joining me. I hope you learned something as we got into the dark history of Christmas. I learned so much doing this episode. I really, really, really love episodes like this. You can always suggest me other types of folklore that you want to hear on this show. I love hearing from the community on this. Next week, I'm going to be diving into, we'll call it, two kind of cozy Christmas mysteries that I want to tell you about. So please join me here for that. And until next time, stay curious and leave out some porridge for percheda. Ooh, ooh. Heart starts pounding is written and produced by me. Kila Moore.

Heart starts pounding is also produced by Matt Brown. Additional research and writing by Greg Castro. Sound design and mixed by Ph. Tree Sound. Special thanks to Travis Dunlap, Grayson Jernigan, the team at WME and Ben Jaffe. Have a heart pounding story or a case request. Check out heartsartspounding.com.