Toronto
6 legends
The Philip Experiment in Toronto
In 1972 the Toronto Society for Psychical Research ran the experiment backwards: instead of looking for a real ghost, eight people under Iris Owen invented one. They wrote the biography of a seventeenth-century English aristocrat, Philip Aylesford, gave him a castle, a gypsy mistress and a suicide, drew his portrait — and sat for a year addressing a character they had made up themselves. In the second year the raps began, the table moved and rose, and all of it was filmed in front of a studio audience. The point of the experiment was precisely that Philip had never existed: the group obtained the classic phenomena of the séance room from a knowingly fictional spirit.
Country Road Creature
Another of Henderson's: a gaunt figure the height of a telegraph pole, caught apparently by accident through a car window on an empty road between fields. Nothing is formally known about it — no habits, no origin, no name beyond the descriptive one. That is the device: the caption under the picture is shorter than a caption normally is, and the rest is left to you.
Bridge Worm
Henderson posted it on 14 August 2019. A long segmented body, apparently assembled from human skulls and vertebrae, wound around the underside of a bridge span. The mechanism is the one all his work uses: the creature does not chase and does not attack, it is simply already there — under a structure you drive over daily and have never once looked beneath.
Long Horse
A rare thing in Henderson's bestiary: a creature that means no harm. A horse's skull on a neck tens of metres long, hanging down from somewhere above. In the mythology that accumulated around it online, Long Horse warns of danger — its appearance is a sign rather than a threat, and the only thing that hurts is the sound it makes, which it cannot help. Of the whole late-2010s internet menagerie it is the one that grew the friendliest fandom.
Cartoon Cat
Henderson drew it in August 2018, days after Siren Head. The creature is done in the visual language of 1930s American animation — rubber-hose limbs, saucer eyes, a permanent grin — but stands two storeys tall and has teeth a cartoon cat should not have. The trick is a single one and it works every time: take an idiom an entire generation associates with safety and childhood, and scale it up until it stops being funny.
Siren Head
A forty-foot figure of rusted metal with two loudspeakers where a head should be. The Canadian illustrator Trevor Henderson posted the first drawing in August 2018 and nothing happened for a year and a half — by his own account it got a couple of likes and was forgotten. It went off in the spring of 2020, when a clip of the thing towering over a city spread everywhere, and within four months it was the most recognisable monster on the internet. Its voice is playback: air-raid sirens, fragments of other people's conversations, calls for help.