(host) You're walking home a little more tipsy than you should be, with only the light of the moon to guide you.

It's far too late for anyone else to be out and about, but suddenly, you feel that prickle at the back of your neck that tells you something is watching.

You glance up into the trees and see the shape of an oddly large owl.

It's unnerving.

Then things get really weird.

When its head turns, you are staring into the eyes of a human woman.

Stories of La Lechuza are common on both sides of the border of the Rio Grande in Tejano and Mexican folklore.

La Lechuza translates directly to "the owl" in English, but it denotes a malevolent witch said to prey on drunks and children.

There are countless stories of large owls peeking into bedroom windows late at night, only for parents to find unexplained scratches on their babies in the morning, alleged victims of La Lechuza.

In some iterations, they are familiars.

In others, they are cursed, their transformation involuntary.

While still other tales claim they were once human women who seek vengeance.

While more recent sightings of these monsters appear in Mexico and Texas, they have a much broader and more complex centuries-old history across Mesoamerica.

[dramatic music] I'm Dr. Emily Zarka, and this is "Monstrum."

I had the opportunity to sit down with Ayden, a folklorist and podcaster in Austin, Texas, whose series, "Susto," explores spooky tales from Hispanic and Latinx traditions.

He grew up hearing stories about Lechuzas and has continued to be fascinated by them.

The idea of Lechuza, or the story of Lechuzas, they go way back to, like, pre-colonial times even.

But definitely with the introduction of Spanish Catholicism and religion placed on indigenous people and their beliefs, it becomes, like, this mix of a creature.

And I grew up hearing about Lechuzas.

I heard that they were owls, right?

But they were owls that were actually witches who could shape-shift into birds.

So were all owls potentially Lechuzas, or only certain ones?

Only certain ones.

So, not every owl is a witch, but some witches can be or can transform into owls.

So it's kind of like a gamble when you encounter one in the wild.

(Emily) La Lechuza gained popular recognition in 1975 after a series of monster bird sightings were reported in Texas.

A local magazine printed a list of 25 theories to explain La Lechuza sightings.

According to the magazine, the official police theory was that it was a big black bird two to six feet in size, although they do note that many witnesses say the bird has a human face.

Other possibilities range from probable to likely satirical, including a lost South American condor, or even a Toucan, a tropical bird whose beak, when viewed from the front, resembles a face.

Then there's the Melvin Arnold theory-- just a guy with a cigar; or the coyote- in-a-large-hat theory.

It was also speculated that the creature was sent by a witch in a nearby town who was angry at the local bruja.

What I found particularly interesting in this article is the mention of two conspiracy theories.

One, that the police department made the whole thing up to make the town seem primitive and ridiculous, possibly to distract from the police force losing a slew of cases in court, and another, that a local priest started the rumors to bring more people to church.

Both seemed significant given the history of the church and the government in influencing indigenous folklore practices.

The next year, the police reported that they confiscated a dummy that had caused some of the reported sightings, but the legends persist, and they aren't restricted to Texas.

To better understand La Lechuza today, we can look to the Nahua, a group of indigenous peoples in Mesoamerica.

The Nahua people don't believe in a strict dichotomy of good versus evil.

Their religious practices recognize spirit entities, including those of animals.

Nahua people known as curers work with the spirit world and spirit entities, mostly to aid the community, but some may work rituals to do harm.

The ritual practices of these individuals were not viewed by the labels of more European-centric cultures, such as magic or witchcraft, at least not until the Spanish conquistadors.

It's indigenous practices that had to adopt Christian or Catholic practices or terms or rituals, even, to survive, so that those practices can keep going.

I think with the influence of colonization, especially on indigenous communities on Mexico and what used to be Mexico, now Texas, it just completely kind of uproots all these things and makes them, again, change, so that they can still live.

You know, these are stories that are centuries old, and they're still being told.

And so I think that's just a testament to their power of survival, their power of transformation.

(Emily) Beginning in the 15th century, colonists from Spain arrived in Mesoamerica, attacking Maya and Aztec territories.

They brought both enslaved and freed people of African descent with them.

Needless to say, with all of these different cultures interacting with one another, clashes occurred.

The cultural and spiritual opinions of the Nahua were influenced by these groups, including the introduction of the concept of sorcery.

You know, Mesoamerican cultures had their own beliefs about birds and owls specifically.

They saw owls as messengers of the underworld.

And so mix that with Christianity and Catholicism, then it's doubly seen as this negative entity, as this evil thing.

(Emily) To the Spanish Christians, many pagan practices and rituals were seen as sorcery, an evil that must be eliminated because it went against God.

They believed that any knowledge of superstition could only be achieved through a pact with the devil.

Brujeria, the Spanish word for witchcraft, was the most severe and feared application of superstition.

Women were most often accused of this heresy.

The Nahua came to distinguish sorcery as intentionally malicious acts.

Seen as incapable of redemption and in league with the devil, these sorcerers were a group separate from those still practicing traditional rituals.

Sorcerers were seen as inherently evil, and increasingly, those who communed with animal spirit entities took on negative, even demonic connotations.

Accusing someone of sorcery, essentially labeling them as inherently and irrevocably evil, was bad enough.

The person would often be ostracized.

Then the Inquisition came to town.

When indigenous populations resisted Catholic indoctrination, the Holy Inquisition was brought in.

Beginning in 1571, the Inquisition had the authority of the church and Spanish crown to prosecute any kind of religious heresy, including witchcraft and sorcery accusations.

Punishment included being burned alive.

During Spanish colonial rule, new Spain society was in part constructed through a caste system.

Roles were defined by race, kinship, and nationality, but also by religion and religious reputation.

This construct also seemed to influence a change around indigenous social structures of witchcraft.

You have the Nahualli, a sorcerer who can transform himself or herself into an animal.

When a bird or bird-like transformation occurs, they may be called something different as they fly around at night, looking to kill.

Then there's a subset called owl men, who practice black magic.

Sometimes a sorcerer is just called a "tecololt," meaning owl.

While the Spanish word for owl, lechuza, has its etymological roots in Latin, the association of sorcerers with owls and shape-shifting in the greater Mesoamerican tradition undoubtedly influenced the legend of La Lechuza.

There are other influences as well.

Take this story told by Domingo Lagos Hernandez in 1990, for example.

Three sons became suspicious after their mother began regularly serving them blood.

One day, they decided to put the matter to rest by spying on her.

The son secretly watched their mother at home and saw her remove her legs before turning into a bird.

She flew away before returning home to regurgitate the blood of the victim she had sucked, intending to cook it for her children.

Terrified by what they witnessed, they put ashes on the joints of her disembodied legs, which made it impossible for her to reattach.

She had to stay a bird forever, and they called her "vampire woman."

Couple things going on there.

One, the mother combines elements of the shape-shifting sorcerers and the Tzitzimitl, female deities related to fertility who are often depicted in skeletal form or wearing skulls.

After Spanish colonization, they became increasingly associated with female hags or crones, who may drink blood and live in seclusion in the forest.

But the woman in this story is called a vampire, a decidedly European term.

Giving food is a profound expression of love for the Nahua, but this mother takes the practice to a dangerous and exploitative extreme, a warning against overindulgence or excessiveness, even when it comes to loving one's own children.

What La Lechuza signifies, or why they should be revered or feared, changes over place and time.

My perception is probably changing the way the story's told, because I do see them in a positive light, versus, no, they're purely evil and bad.

If I'm out at night and I see an owl, I'm like, "Hey, sister," you know?

"How are you doing tonight?"

Kind of show some respect in a sense.

I love that.

It's a form of resistance, in a way, of keeping the stories, having them change over time.

(Ayden) These stories are coming from marginalized communities.

The stories that I heard growing up were from the Texas-Mexico border.

And so hearing my culture tell these stories and then connecting to other cultures within Latin American and Hispanic diaspora, it connects us in a way that, like, I never really thought about, that like, we have power through these stories, because they survived.

It's just a testament to our own survival because they're being told to this day.

(Emily) These monstrous, witchy bird women function as an example of how indigenous traditions and perspectives respond to outside influences, and serve as a form of cultural preservation.

Where would you like to see legends of La Lechuza go in the future?

I think I would just like these stories to keep being amplified.

It's introducing these stories to more and more people, to people who have never heard these stories before.

I would love to see it visually represented in movies and shows, books, art, what have you.

And it is, it's out there.

But again, to have that amplified would be amazing.

Lechuzas are a small piece of the longer ongoing history of sorcery and colonialism in Mesoamerica.

Perhaps that's why their stories are still told today.

A big black bird.

The Nahua came to... Nahua?

Nahua, God.

Tecolo, tecolo, tecololt, tecololt.

Second guess myself half the time.