I’m sure you have all heard of the Appalachian Rules:
If you see something, no you didn’t.
If you hear something, no you didn’t.
If something whistles at you, you don’t whistle back.

But what happens if you ignore the rules? What will happen if you whistle back or interact with the so-called “wildlife” in the Appalachian Mountains? This is the legend of Spearfinger, the Appalachian Witch, located in eastern Tennessee.

The legend of Spearfinger began in the late 19th century, stemming from a Cherokee oral tale that has been passed down from generation to generation. Spearfinger is often seen on the Norton Creek Trail that joins Chilhowee Mountain and the Little Tennessee River. Spearfinger is described as a 50ft tall woman with a haunting face that resembles stone. Her mouth is stained with the blood of her victims, and her glassy black eyes seem as though they can look through your soul. She walks down the trail clutching her right hand, hiding the weapon she uses to take down her prey—her pointed finger. It is often reported that those who have managed to escape and survive Spearfinger’s attack hear thundering steps that resemble and a soft, whispering voice singing, “Liver, I eat it. Liver, I eat it,” before meeting their demise at the hands of Spearfinger.

The most terrifying part of the legend of Spearfinger is the fact that she is able to shapeshift. You could be walking down the trail with your mother, your best friend, your dog, and the moment you turn around, you’re met with the horrifying face of Spearfinger, and your last moments are spent feeling her dig her talon-like finger into your flesh.

Spearfinger most often targets children, stunning them with her horrific face, making them unable to move, which gives her the perfect opportunity to dig her pointed finger into their bodies and cut them open in order to devour their livers.

One reported sighting of Spearfinger was by a young woman who lived near the trail that the witch is often spotted on. She reported that when her father needed to leave the home to handle some important business in town, her aunt came to look after her and her siblings. One evening, as the children were playing with their aunt, they felt the air suddenly go cold—not just a subtle breeze from an open window cold, but a haunting, suffocating cold. Instantly, the children and their aunt knew something was wrong. The aunt gathered the children and took them to the attic, where there was a small opening in the floor that allowed the family to peer down to the bottom floor.

As they were looking through the opening, their door suddenly opened, and in came what appeared to be a normal-looking elderly lady. At this realization, the family slightly relaxed, believing it to be an elderly lady that may have wandered out of her home and gotten lost. Unfortunately, the family did not feel relieved for very long. As they were watching the woman, she began shouting, “Come down, my children, come down. I have got something I would like you to see.” When the children hesitated, the woman began to get very angry. “COME DOWN HERE, CHILDREN, I HAVE A STORY TO TELL YOU!” she shouted, her voice turning into a shrill scream.

The children were terrified at that point, peering through the opening and hoping the woman did not hear their soft cries. All of a sudden, the woman disappeared. Finally, the children believed they were safe, but once again, it did not last for long. The next thing the children saw was a long, sharp finger entering the attic through the opening they were just looking through, and as they watched in horror, the finger began to grow even longer and even sharper than before. The finger was swirling around the attic, trying to catch a nick of one of the children. As the children were screaming and crying, their aunt began praying loudly over and over again, and at last, the woman disappeared for good, and the air settled once again.

The next morning, the aunt went outside to see if there were any footprints or markings from where the woman had entered their home. Instead of footprints, she was met with the gruesome sight of all their livestock—dead, mutilated, and gutted, their livers being the only organ that was missing.

So, if you ever decide to take a trip through the Norton Creek Trail, make sure you listen for Spearfinger’s thundering footsteps and her bone-chilling song, “Liver, I eat it. Liver, I eat it.” Or you too may end up just like those farm animals, your last moments being spent looking into her glassy black eyes and feeling her icy finger begin to dig for her next meal.

Edited and Reviewed by Kien Powell