Unveiling the Mystical Creatures in From!
The creatures in From have gotten complicated with all the fan theories flying around. As someone who’s been hooked on this show, I learned everything there is to know about these nightmarish beings. Today, I will share it all with you.
Here’s the thing — the monsters in “From” didn’t come out of nowhere. They’re rooted in centuries of mythology and folklore that humans have been passing down since we first gathered around fires. I’ve spent way too many late nights digging into the origins of creatures that mirror what we see in the show, and honestly? The connections are wild. Let me walk you through the legends that shaped our understanding of mystical, terrifying creatures — and how they tie into what keeps us watching “From.”

The Hydra
Probably should have led with this section, honestly. The Hydra is one of those creatures that just sticks with you. It’s a serpent-like water monster straight out of Greek mythology, and it lived in the marshes of Lerna. What made this thing so terrifying wasn’t just its many heads — it was the fact that chopping one off meant two more would grow right back. That’s nightmare fuel if you ask me.
Hercules had to deal with this beast as one of his Twelve Labors. His solution? Burn the stumps after cutting the heads so they couldn’t regenerate. Pretty clever, right? I think about the Hydra a lot when I’m watching “From” because the creatures there have that same relentless quality. You think you’ve figured something out, you think you’ve found a way to survive, and then the problem multiplies. The Hydra’s basically a metaphor for any persistent challenge where solving one part just creates more trouble.
The Minotaur
This one really hits different when you think about it alongside the show. The Minotaur — half-man, half-bull — was trapped inside the labyrinth on Crete. It was born from the union of Queen Pasiphae and a white bull, which is already deeply unsettling. The labyrinth itself, built by the legendary craftsman Daedalus, was designed to be inescapable. Sound familiar? The residents of Fromville know that feeling all too well.
Theseus famously ventured into the maze to prove he had the courage and strength to face what lurked inside. And that’s kind of what the characters in “From” do every single day, isn’t it? They’re navigating an impossible maze, facing something monstrous at the center. Most scholars see the Minotaur as a symbol of our primal instincts and a warning about what happens when desires go unchecked. I think it’s also about the terror of being trapped with something you don’t fully understand.
The Loch Ness Monster
Now Nessie — that’s what people affectionately call the Loch Ness Monster — represents a totally different kind of fear. This creature supposedly lives in the dark depths of Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands. Most descriptions paint it as a massive dinosaur-like animal, maybe a plesiosaur that somehow avoided extinction. The evidence is thin and controversial, but that’s sort of the point.
Nessie taps into something really primal: our obsession with hidden things. We can’t stand not knowing what’s lurking beneath the surface. That’s what makes the creatures in “From” endearing to us horror fans — they give us just enough mystery to keep us guessing while never fully revealing what’s underneath. The unknown is always scarier than the known, and Nessie’s been proving that for decades.
Yeti and Bigfoot
I’ve always been fascinated by these two. The Yeti, sometimes called the abominable snowman, reportedly prowls the Himalayan mountains. People have told stories about this creature for centuries. Then there’s Bigfoot — or Sasquatch — a giant ape-like being spotted (allegedly) across North American forests. Despite countless reported sightings, neither has been scientifically verified. Not even close.
What I find really interesting is what these creatures represent. They’re all about our fascination with things that refuse to fit neatly into categories. Animals that defy scientific classification. There’s also this tension between the wild, untamed world and human civilization slowly creeping into every corner of it. “From” plays with that tension beautifully. The creatures there exist in a space that shouldn’t be possible, and that’s exactly what makes them so compelling.
The Phoenix
Okay, the Phoenix isn’t a monster in the traditional sense. I’ll give you that. But it’s one of the most significant creatures across multiple cultures, and I think it deserves a spot here. The Phoenix represents immortality and resurrection — it dies in flames and then rises from its own ashes, reborn.
It originated in Egyptian mythology and later became a powerful symbol for early Christians who saw it as representing life after death. There’s something deeply hopeful about the Phoenix that contrasts sharply with the other creatures on this list. Its cyclical regeneration mirrors the patterns we see in nature — seasons changing, life continuing. In the context of “From,” I think the Phoenix reminds us that even in the darkest stories, there’s the possibility of renewal. Maybe that’s why we keep watching.
The Chupacabra
Here’s where things get more modern, and honestly, more unsettling to me personally. The Chupacabra is a relatively recent myth from Latin America. Descriptions vary, but most people talk about a small creature with reptilian skin and rows of sharp spines running down its back. Its whole deal? Attacking livestock — goats especially — and draining their blood. The name literally translates to “goat-sucker,” which is both gross and oddly specific.
What sets the Chupacabra apart from the ancient myths is that it came from urban legends, not ancient texts. It reflects very real fears of unknown predatory threats. The creatures in “From” give me major Chupacabra vibes because they operate in that same space of modern terror — things that shouldn’t exist but apparently do, hunting people in ways that feel both calculated and primal.
The Kraken
The Kraken is Scandinavian folklore at its most terrifying. This legendary sea monster supposedly lurked off the coasts of Norway and Greenland, and it was described as a colossal squid-like beast capable of dragging entire ships beneath the waves. Imagine being a sailor and hearing that story before heading out. No thank you.
Sailors shared Kraken tales partly as entertainment and partly as genuine warnings. The ocean is dangerous — whirlpools, aggressive marine life, sudden storms that appear out of nowhere. The Kraken was a way to package all of those real threats into one terrifying narrative. I respect the storytelling, even if it probably caused a few sailors to lose sleep. The lesson here is about nature’s unpredictability, and “From” echoes that constantly. You never know when the danger is coming or what form it’ll take.
The Banshee
The Banshee freaks me out more than most of these, if I’m being honest. Coming from Irish mythology, the Banshee appears as a wailing woman, and her mournful cry means someone in the family is about to die. That’s it. That’s her whole thing. She doesn’t attack. She just… warns you. And somehow that’s worse.
There’s a vulnerability to the Banshee legend that gets under your skin. It evokes all the complicated emotions we have around death and mourning. As a symbol, she’s about destiny you can’t escape and how fragile human life really is. The characters in “From” hear things, see things, get warnings they can’t fully interpret. The show uses that same kind of dread — the horrible knowledge that something bad is coming and you’re powerless to stop it.
The Wendigo
This one’s genuinely dark. The Wendigo comes from Native American folklore, specifically from Algonquian-speaking tribes. It represents insatiable greed and cannibalism — two things nobody wants to think about but probably should. Wendigos are described as gaunt and emaciated, with glowing eyes, yellowed skin, and an overwhelming stench of decay. They’re what happens when a person loses their humanity completely.
The tales served a real purpose in those communities. They warned against overconsumption and the dangers of isolation and starvation pushing someone past the point of no return. It was a morality story about the importance of community, sharing, and staying connected to other people. That resonates with “From” on a deep level — the show’s always asking what happens to people when they’re cut off from everything they know and pushed to their absolute limits.
The Sirens
Greek mythology gave us the Sirens, and they’re still messing with our heads thousands of years later. These half-woman, half-bird creatures would sing the most beautiful music imaginable, luring sailors to crash their ships on the rocks. It’s temptation at its most lethal, and that’s a theme “From” plays with constantly.
The Sirens embody manipulation and the idea that the most dangerous things can also be the most attractive. They’re a warning about destructive desires and how enchanting distractions can literally kill you. I think every horror story worth its salt has a Siren element — something that draws you in even when every rational thought tells you to run.
Mermaids
Mermaids pop up in folklore all over the world, which tells you something about how universal the concept is. The popular image is a beautiful creature living beneath the waves, enchanting anyone who sees her. Modern culture has romanticized mermaids pretty heavily — but the older legends? Those are much darker.
In many traditional stories, mermaids lure men to their deaths without hesitation. They reflect something real about human nature: the duality of beauty and danger, attraction and destruction. Something can be gorgeous and deadly at the same time, and that dual nature is exactly what makes the best horror creatures so effective. “From” understands that principle perfectly.
All of these creatures — whether they sprang from ancient mythology or popped up in modern urban legends — tell us something important about ourselves. They highlight our deepest fears, teach hard-won lessons, and force us to confront what we don’t understand. I think that’s why shows like “From” resonate so strongly. They’re tapping into the same well of fear and fascination that humanity’s been drawing from for thousands of years. And honestly, after spending this much time with these legends, I’m even more convinced that our relationship with monsters says as much about us as it does about them.