Flodder

The Flodder (also known as "Flodderduivel, Watervlodder or "Flodderduûvel" ) is a nocturnal tormentor from Rucphen, Sint Willebrord, Hoeven, Lindenburg, Kruisland but also the area of Steenbergen in Brabant and parts of Zeeland, known to put its big and slimy frog-like claws over the shoulders of its victims, who then have to carry him throughout the night. It is said he lives in the water and thanks his name to the sound he makes when he gets to land. Those who heard him claim the creature barks like a malicious otter. The Flodder jumps those who travel along the water at night, mostly Polders. Flodder jumps on their backs and won't let go until they reach civilization. Those who look back to look at the Flodder while they are carrying him, are said to get licked in the face. At times he appears to be a big and rugged black dog, but some have claimed he looks like a cat. The Flodder's big wet frog hands wrap themselves around the neck of those who carry him. Oftentimes he would leave his nightmare-ridden victims to wake up right where he left them, to wake up shivering with a fever on the cold wet ground. There are those who believed the only way to get rid of the Flodder is to cross socks or stockings after taking them off. If one failed to do so, they'd be visited by a nightmare that very same night.

Hoeve Lindenburg
Lindenburg was a favorite location of the Flodder because of other haunting activities that were said to plague the area. Locals claimed there was a black cat with red glowing eyes that would answer a farmer's playful question "Poeske, poeske, wa'doe'ge daor?", inquiring about what it was doing in the bushes. The cat would answer him "Niemendalle, niemendalle", Nothing, nothing. Locals also spoke of a mysterious horse carriage that would ride through town during stormy nights, making its way to Steenbergen in the west. Some folks even claimed a werewolf roamed the streets at night. However, none of these activities occurred whenever the Flodder was nearby.

A Story From Kruisland
The locals of Kruisland weren't very fond of the sober people from up north, and as such they weren't very welcoming towards the regional patroller who had up before then never heard of the Flodder. In a tavern they led him on to accept their challenge and catch the darn beast. In his drunken stupor he accepted. Equipped with a gun he went out to hunt the Flodder one night by the side of a ditch, when he heard a rustling behind him. When he turned around it was already too late as the Flodder latched onto his back and pressed on his shoulders. For hours he battled the weight, but his body could not withstand it and he started leaning towards the water. The gun slipped from his fingers and into the water, as he eventually grabbed onto the banks to keep himself from falling in. The weight kept on pressing him down however, until his face touched the surface of the muddy water and it was too late for him to let out a scream. The next day he was found dead with his hands on the banks and his face pressed in the mud.