Cotard’s Syndrome is the nightmare delusion where someone becomes convinced they’re already dead, missing organs, or fading out of reality while still walking around like everything’s fine. Then we pivot to the modern problem: AI convenience training people to outsource intuition and critical thinking until “the screen said so” starts replacing judgment. Clinical, eerie, and uncomfortably familiar.

Deep in the Amazon, there are places the map doesn’t explain and trails that feel like they’re being watched. In this episode of Cryptid Captures, Phreak opens the file on the Mapinguari, a shaggy, foul-stinking forest legend whispered about like a warning instead of a bedtime story. From accounts of crushing footsteps and rotten-metal air to the unnerving idea of a “guardian” that shows up when humans take too much, we dig into what makes the Mapinguari feel real: not proof, but pattern. Because in a rainforest big enough to swallow towns, the scariest part isn’t that something could be out there.

It’s that the jungle might already know you’re there.

In March 1989, UT student Mark Kilroy vanished after crossing into Matamoros during Spring Break. What followed wasn’t a mystery that “might” be true. It was a documented nightmare: Rancho Santa Elena, Adolfo Constanzo’s inner circle, and a belief system twisted into a machine that treated human lives like fuel.

This Phreak File isn’t a whodunit. It’s a dossier on how fear gets organized, how violence gets dressed up as “protection,” and what happens when belief becomes a weapon.

In this episode, we dig into prions: misfolded proteins that don’t just make you sick, they rewrite your brain slowly and irreversibly. No bacteria. No virus. No real cure. Just a biological glitch that spreads by forcing healthy proteins to fold wrong, leaving the mind to unravel piece by piece.

Then we layer in Alice in Wonderland Syndrome, where perception itself can warp, rooms shrink, distances stretch, time stutters, and your own body stops feeling correctly sized while you’re fully awake. Together, it paints a brutal picture: sometimes the scariest “veil” isn’t supernatural at all, it’s the moment your brain stops being a reliable witness and starts turning reality into a funhouse with teeth.

The Aswang isn’t one monster. It’s an umbrella for an entire ecosystem of Filipino night predators: shapeshifters, witches, ghouls, vampires, and the infamous manananggal. In this episode of Cryptid Captures, Phreak digs into why the Aswang feels so real, how old the stories run, why certain regions carry the reputation, and the most unsettling part of all: a legend that doesn’t need proof to change how people behave after dark.

Graduation night in Springfield, Missouri should’ve ended with hangovers and blurry photos. Instead, three women vanished from a quiet house without the kind of chaos people expect. Cars in the driveway. Purses and keys left behind. A scene compromised too early. And decades later, no ending.

In this Phreak File, Phreak walks the verified timeline, separates rumor from record, and stares down the detail that makes this case unbearable: whatever happened didn’t need to get loud. Somebody knew how to keep it quiet.

In this episode, we dig into Lanmaoa asiatica and reports of “lilliputian” hallucinations, where people claim to see tiny, realistic figures moving with purpose like a hidden layer of reality slipped into view. Then we shift into Capgras syndrome, the chilling delusion where someone you love looks identical… but your brain insists they’re an impostor.

Two different perception glitches, one ugly question: when reality feels wrong, are you catching a glimpse beyond the veil… or watching your own mind rewrite the world?

The Loveland Frogman isn’t a deep-woods legend. It’s a roadside one. A thing that shows up under bridges and near water, where the air feels heavy and the dark feels crowded.

Tonight on Cryptid Captures: the alleged police encounter, the sightings, and the unsettling truth behind river monsters… sometimes the scariest thing you can see in your headlights is something that stands up and watches you back.

Keddie, California should’ve been the kind of mountain town where nothing worse than bad weather finds you. But in Cabin 28, three people were bound, brutalized, and murdered in the living room… while three kids slept in the next room, untouched. And when the sun came up, 12-year-old Tina Sharp was gone.

This isn’t a ghost story. It’s a real-life nightmare about thin walls, missed warnings, and the kind of silence that feels planned. Because whatever happened in that cabin didn’t just kill a family… it left a question behind that still hasn’t stopped echoing: how does something that loud stay unheard?

Tonight’s episode drags two different kinds of evil into the same spotlight: one stamped with official authority, the other hiding in plain sight. We start with Japan’s Unit 731, a real-world horror show disguised as “research,” where cruelty wore a lab coat and paperwork tried to make the unthinkable look normal. Then we pivot to the case of Daniel LaPlante, a name that still makes people lock their attic access and check the shadows twice, because some monsters don’t need history, armies, or institutions. They just need a house with blind spots.

This one isn’t about jump scares. It’s about what happens when humans decide other humans don’t count… and how the worst things aren’t always outside the walls.