Oh, yeah. They are everywhere. In the Appalachian mountains, in your school, even on a demanding ranch that invests in many cameras . . . for some reason.
In Navajo culture, “skinwalkers” are most definitely real. The proper term, yee naaldlooshii, has been thrown around and bended to the will of American folklore, sometimes blending in with ufology. These malevolent creatures are described as evil skin-stealing and body-swapping beings in media such as Supernatural, but this isn’t the case in native folklore.
Yee naaldlooshii is translated to “with it, he goes on all fours.” Does that remind you of a human? The Navajos referred to these beasts as evil witches, ones who employed dark magic to mutilate those who either defy them or already fear them. So, in order to disguise themselves for an attack, they take the form of animals. Usually. The myth has been skewed a ton in history, leading to some believers in the uncanny valley or “folie a deux” to mold them into what we imagine is lurking in the woods. While yee naaldlooshii does not steal skin, it is said that they can absorb a soul by looking their prey in the eyes, but they do not steal faces. Additionally, horror films regarding the interdimensional had something to do with sparking this renowned lie (cough, cough, Invasion of the Bodysnatchers).
While it is becoming increasingly more popular to share these body-snatching fears with those living near mountain trails, even if none of it is logically true, that doesn’t mean there aren’t entities to be afraid of. There are probably hundreds of unexplored species, and that includes the biomes they thrive in. Plus, it is always interesting to craft tales of what you hear while camping. Forests hold history in the trees, at least I believe they’re trees . . .
Got me spooked for a second. However, yee naaldlooshii aren’t the only skewed myth in correlation with “skinwalkers.” Introducing: the Wiindigo AND lesser-known Wechuge.
Algonquian, Cree, and Ojibwe are possibly words you never thought existed. In this native folklore, here belongs the Wiindigo. Honestly, there are several variations of spelling: wiindigoo, windigo, witiko (commonly used in Cree), and wentiko, but “wendigo” was a term created for easy memory, which is not proper.
The Wiindigo is an Algonquian beast primarily existing in Canada, Quebec and Ontario, these territories are surrounded by forest. Naturally. While many interpretations exist as a gangly, disheveled monster with a deer for a face, others just look like aliens. No one is sure of their appearance, but their origin is pretty clear when simple research is done. A wiindigo is created by breaking taboo, and that could range from alcohol indulgence to brutal murder. All the same, an indigenous figure will get punished, or rather cursed to roam the lands as this forever. But it’s inherent to not take their threatening appearance at face value. In this form, they are not meant to be fully fledged killers. They are warning signs for travelers, for Algonquin members, and for anyone who dare think of committing atrocities. Wiindigos were once humans too, and they are serving a consequence. Not mindless killers.
On the other hand, we have the strictly Athabaskan Wechuge. Very similar in physical comparison to the Wiindigo, but about . . . I don’t know—40 feet larger? Point is, they are very menacing and dangerous creatures, bound to the icy depths of interior Alaska and Western Canada. Literally translating to “ice-hearted,” a wechuge was not at all a good person. Instead of using “natives,” the first Canadians were often called the First Nations. To become a wechuge, a human would have to be the most heinous of all kinds, committing acts of cannibalism, showcasing extreme greed for power, and expressing traits too strong for man. So, obviously they would get possessed and transform into a hybrid man-animal that feeds on clueless hikers. Obviously.
Okay. That was a pretty lengthy lesson on myth history. Fortunately, I’m joking; no monster named a “skinwalker” is going to come after you. Everything else listed above will, unless you stay away from North America and Canada. But here comes the most dire question: do I believe in all of this? And here is my humble answer: the truth appears when you least expect it.