How Rabies Gave Us Half of Halloween’s Monsters

What do vampires, werewolves and zombies all have in common other than being an essential part of Halloween canon? 

These “Monster Mash” regulars share a possible origin that’s completely grounded in modern medicine. Sure, they’ve all got detailed and disparate elements to their legends. Zombies would have no trouble chomping down on brains in a nice chili garlic sauce, vampires aren’t forced into bat form against their will and werewolves are the only ones that are strictly beholden to the lunar calendar. In terms of straightforward assault, though, they’ve all got a similar modus operandi: biting and eating humans, whether they stick to liquids or expand to solids.

This and other notable patterns have inspired the thought that these folktales and others were all inspired by a single, unfortunate fate. One that we’re capable of identifying and preventing these days, but would have been deeply freaky before people knew what was going on: rabies.

Rabies, because of effective treatment, gets none of the reverence it deserves these days. Most people are surprised to know that it has an almost 100 percent mortality rate once symptoms show up, and those symptoms are no cakewalk. If you were unlucky enough to get chomped on by the wrong wild dog in ye olden days, the next few weeks of your life were going to be a nightmare for you and anyone in your path. 

Let’s take a look at the symptoms, and I think you’ll see why there’s a hunch rabies-infected victims ended up launching an array of monster stories:

• Insomnia
• Confusion and aggression
• Hallucinations
• Drooling
• Twitching
• Different sized pupils
• Fear of light
• Fear of water

So, picture an imaginary man in the throes of rabies, and stick him in a small village. He’s suddenly up at all hours of the night thanks to insomnia, and refuses to go out during the day because of photophobia. If you do see him after dusk, he’s drooling, if not frothing at the mouth, aggressive, and probably hallucinating. Get close, against your better judgment, and he’ll have massive or tiny pupils, and will be twitching. 

Stuff goes sufficiently south, and there’s a chance he’ll tear you open and possibly eat a bit of you, something that’s been documented as an outcome.

What are you more likely to say, keeping in mind you probably still think most mental illness is demonic possession? “Gee, Paul seems real sick,” or “Paul has turned into a monster most foul!” 

Speaking of possession, that might be your next guess, and wouldn’t you know it, that's been suggested as undiagnosed rabies as well. Turns out that demon didn’t hate holy water, it was just a guy with an animal bite that was scared of water in general.