Published on Friday, October 31, 2025
By the A.M. Costa Rica staff

Okay, so picture this: it’s Halloween night in Costa Rica. The moon’s out, the jungle’s whispering, and somewhere in the distance... there’s a low growl that makes the hair on your neck stand up. Yeah, that’s him, the Cadejos.

If you’ve been following A.M. Costa Rica’s spooky series this month, you already know we’ve gone deep into the country’s creepiest legends, like La Segua, the gorgeous woman who tricks men on lonely roads before showing her horrifying face (talk about a bad date).

Then there’s the Phantom Cart, rolling silently through the night toward the homes of liars, thieves, and the freshly dead.

And don’t forget, There’s a Lot to a Name, a chilling tale inspired by Mexico’s Santa Muerte tradition.

But tonight, it’s time to meet the big dog himself, the Cadejos.

Legend says the Cadejos is a ghostly dog that follows people through the darkness. Some say he’s there to scare you. Others swear he’s protecting you. Either way, once you hear the sound of his chains dragging behind him, you’ll wish you were home under the covers.

This creepy canine dates all the way back to Mayan-Quiché mythology, tied to the idea of nahuales, animal spirits that protect humans. But when European settlers showed up, they brought their own hellhound stories, think Cerberus from Greek myths or the Moddey Dhoo from the Isle of Man. Mix all that up, and boom: you get the Cadejos, Costa Rica’s own supernatural watchdog from the underworld.

In Elías Zeledón-Cartín’s book Leyendas Costarricenses (“Costa Rican Legends”), the writer describes how the Cadejos has been heard howling from a distance or roaring like some beast from the deep night. He says countless people swear they’ve felt the dog’s claws scrape the sidewalk as it passes, an unmistakable sound that sends chills down your spine.

According to Zeledón, the Costa Rican Cadejos is a large, black, wolf-like creature, lean and wiry, almost hedgehog-like, with two glowing red eyes that pierce through the dark. Its tail is long and wide, its nails sharp enough to echo on the pavement. Some versions say it walks on goat legs and drags heavy chains that clank as it moves.

But here’s the eerie twist: the Cadejos isn’t violent. It never attacks. It just follows. Usually, it trails behind men staggering home from late-night parties, watching from the shadows until they reach their front door. Sometimes, it waits at the threshold of their room, those red eyes shining in the dark like a silent reproach, reminding them they’ve had one drink too many.

Bullets and blades are useless against it. If you try to fight, the Cadejos simply disappears into the air before you can strike, as Zeledón-Cartín wrote.

There are a few versions of how the Cadejos came to be. One says he was a man named Joaquín, a troublemaker from San José or maybe Cartago, depending on who’s telling the story.

He was a drunk and a wanderer, and one night his father cursed him for never coming home. That curse transformed him into the Cadejos, doomed to wander forever, following other drunks as they stumble through the dark.

Another version says he used to be a priest who lost his way. As punishment, God turned him into the Cadejos for a hundred years, forcing him to roam the earth as a chained black dog with glowing red eyes.

When he tried to end his suffering by jumping into the Poás Volcano, the story goes, his spirit fused with the volcano itself, so every time it rumbles, people say it’s the Cadejos growling deep underground.

And then there’s the story about a son trying to scare his drunk father straight. He waited on a lonely road, rattling chains and growling to freak him out. It worked, a little too well. The terrified father cursed his son to walk on four legs for eternity. The boy transformed into the Cadejos that very night, forever destined to guide late-night wanderers home... or scare them senseless.

In some tales, the Cadejos actually protects people, especially those too drunk to protect themselves. He’s like the dark spirit who gets you home safe, but also makes sure you don’t forget your sins. Kind of a spooky moral lesson wrapped in fur and fire-red eyes.

Either way, if you’re out late and you hear chains dragging behind you, don’t turn around.

Because if you do...

You might see those red eyes staring right back at you.

Hush! Did you just hear claws scratching at your door?

Have a Pura Vida Halloween. 

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