Growing up in San Antonio, Texas, I always heard all the local myths and urban legends. We have The Donkey Lady, Midget Mansion, The Chinese Cemetery, The Haunted Railroad tracks, El Camaracito Bar (Home of the Dancing Diablo.. it's a real place), La Llorona (the crying woman) and La Lechuza (a witch with an owls body.) However, one legend always did hold my fascination above all the others...
Fang Baby of Old Pearsall Rd.
Now, this is a real legend... you can Google it. There isn't much about it on the internet though... just a few forums... however, nearly every South Texas native has heard of it.
The legend goes that sometime in the 1960's, in South San Antonio, a car full of friends were out drinking late one night. They were driving home from the bar on the dark, long stretch of Old Pearsall Road when suddenly, Pete (the driver) noticed through his headlights something small in the road. For a split second he saw what he thought was a toddler, about 2 or 3 years old.
The child looked as if he were hurt. He had blood on his mouth, was wearing a small white shirt and a diaper. Pete swerved to avoid it. The white Impala nearly flipped as it ended up in the brush just past the shoulder. All three had grown up together on the southside of San Antonio, all in their early 20's. As the friends sat in the car recovering from the near accident, the dust settled. "Hey, what was that in the road man?!" asked Juan.
"I saw a baby, man!" insisted Eddie.
"Wasn't no baby, man!!" growled Pete as he got out of the car to assess the damage.
"No man, we saw a baby!"
"You think you saw a baby? Well then you get out and look... but me and this car.... we goin' to the house!!" said Pete as he shifted the car into drive and headed off into the moonlight.
Later that morning, Pete had been thinking about what he saw just a few hour before. "Was it a baby?!?" he thought. Bothered by the thought, Pete decided to go back and investigate. He pack a six pack in the cooler and headed back out to Old Pearsall Rd. Suddenly, a tire went flat. Pete cursed as he pulled the car off into the brush. Upon exiting the vehicle, he peered at every tire.... the right rear tire was the culprit. He opened the trunk of the impala, retrieving the spare to replace the flat.
The tire was so badly damaged, he didn't notice the two small puncture marks on the side. After awhile, the task was finished. Pete opened the doors of the car to air it out and crawled into the back seat retrieving an ice cold Lone Star beer from the blue cooler. After he cracked one open, started to drink, he slowly began to drift off to sweet dreams of beautiful Hortencia.... Oh, how sweet and lovely she was. He dreamt of their walks along the San Antonio River, kissing her soft lips and making love.
Suddenly Pete awoke to a sharp pain in his neck. As the dream of Hortencia pulled away, in his horror, he saw a toddler standing over him in his lap. Mouth bloody, shirt bloody. The baby had two long upper fangs that rested over his top bottom lip.
Sometimes, Pete's sister Maria says that he occasionally visits her in her dreams asking her for prayers.... and warning her not to travel down Old Pearsall Road after dark.