Notably, the jiang-shi has another zombie parallel: like its cinematic counterpart, the jiang-shi feeds on humans. Whereas the walking and running undead need human flesh to fuel their bodies, the jiang-shi is fuelled by the very essence of what makes us human: the soul. Chinese tradition tells of the soul being the container of a powerful energy, one that the average jiang-shi craves, and that is known as Qi. The average zombie may be quite content to eat its prey while they are still alive and fighting for their lives, but the jiang-shi is first required to slaughter its victim before the act of Qi-devouring can begin in earnest.
In the same way that there are two kinds of zombies—the Haitian, mind-controlled type and the rabid, infected kind most often seen in movies—so too there are two groups of jiang-shi. One is a freshly dead person who reanimates extremely quickly, perhaps even within mere minutes of death. The other is an individual who rises from the grave months, or even years after they have passed away, but who displays no inward or outward evidence of decomposition.
As for how and why a person may become a jiang-shi, the reasons are as many as they are varied: being buried prematurely, dabbling in the black arts, and, rather interestingly, getting hit by lightning can all result in transformation from a regular human to a jiang-shi. On this latter point of lightning, electricity has played a significant role in the resurrection of the dead in the world of fiction, and most notably in Mary Shelley’s classic novel of 1818, Frankenstein. There is another way of transforming into a jiang-shi, too, one which zombie aficionados will definitely be able to relate to: when a person is killed and their Qi is taken, the victim also becomes a jiang-shi. What this demonstrates is that the jiang-shi’s act of stealing energy is very much the equivalent of the zombie delivering an infectious bite.
And, just like most zombies of movies, novels, and television shows, most jiangshis don’t look good in the slightest. Although the jiang-shi typically appears relatively normal when it first reanimates—in the sense that decomposition is not in evidence—things soon change, and not for the better. The walking, jerky corpse of the jiang-shi begins to degrade significantly, the rank odor of the dead becomes all-dominating, and the flesh begins to hang, turning an unhealthy-looking lime color as it does so.
Killing a jiang-shi can be just as difficult as putting down a cinematic zombie. A bullet to the body of a zombie may briefly slow it down. But only a head-shot is going to guarantee the monster stays down permanently. It’s very much the same with the jiang-shi: the trick is in knowing what actually works best. The jiang-shi cannot abide vinegar, which acts as the equivalent of a deadly poison. While actually managing to pour significant amounts of vinegar into the mouth of a ferocious jiang-shi may prove to be far more than tricky, it is said to work at a rapid rate. Smearing the skin of a jiang-shi with the blood of a recently dead dog will also put a jiang-shi to rest, although exactly why is a very different matter. Mind you, providing it worked, would you even care why? No, you probably would not. You would simply be glad to be alive!
Chupacabras
See also: Berwyn Mountains Zombie Dogs, Black Dogs, Zombie Dogs of Texas
Since at least the mid 1990s, the island of Puerto Rico has been the home of a terrifying, marauding animal that reportedly sucks the blood out of farm animals, chiefly goats and chickens. Its name is the Chupacabras, a Spanish term meaning—very appropriately—Goat-Sucker. Whatever the true nature of the monster, it’s clearly as unique as it is hideous. It sports fiery red eyes, a row of sharp spikes running from the back of its head to the middle part of its spine, pointed fangs, razor-like claws, and brings nothing but death and disaster to whomever or whatever it crosses paths with.
While the answers are few and far between concerning the true nature of the Chupacabras, the theories are many. For some, the Chupacabras is a giant bat. For others, it’s an extraterrestrial entity. Then there is the theory it’s something infernal and paranormal-based, something that was conjured up by occultists; but from where, exactly, remains unknown. There is, however, an explanation that is acutely different to all of those above, one which, in many ways, is even more disturbing. It’s also one that the average zombie aficionado can likely relate to and appreciate.
The Chupacabras, or Goat-Sucker, is sometimes described as a giant bat or extraterrestrial, but more often it is seen as a creature resembling an ugly canine.
Situated on Puerto Rico, and established back in the 1930s, is a facility called the Caribbean Primate Research Center. By its own admission, the work of the CPRC is focused upon “the study and use of non-human primates as models for studies of social and biological interactions and for the discovery of methods of prevention, diagnosis and treatment of diseases that afflict humans.” And its work is very well-respected: both the U.S. National Institutes of Health and the National Center for Research Resources provide significant funding for the center.
One of the most controversial aspects of the work of the Caribbean Primate Research Center is that devoted to the study of SIV, which is the monkey equivalent of HIV, the virus that leads to AIDS. Such work is undertaken by staff in the CPRC’s Virology Laboratory. There are longstanding rumors on Puerto Rico that the Virology Laboratory has been engaged in something else, too; something profoundly disturbing. According to the locals, back in the 1990s, highly secret research was undertaken at the CPRC that revolved around the deliberate infection of monkeys—specifically Rhesus Monkeys—with a real-life equivalent of the “Rage Virus” of 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks Later infamy.
The story continues that not long after the experimentation began, some of those same Rhesus Monkeys escaped from the CPRC—or were deliberately released from it—and made new homes deep in Puerto Rico’s El Yunque rain-forest. Savage, violent, and deadly, they were avoided at all costs by the staff of the CPRC, who knew only too well of their marauding, zombie-like behavior. To cover its tracks, however, the CPRC did something ingenious: it carefully spread stories that the monkeys were, in fact, Chupacabras—and lots of them, too. Circulating fear-filled tales of monsters would hopefully achieve three things: (a) it would keep people out of the area; (b) it would prevent people from becoming bitten and infected by the rage-inducing virus; and (c) it would ensure the CPRC received no backlash for its fringe-research into dangerous viruses. If the story is true, then the ruse worked very well, indeed. Belief in the Chupacabras quickly became widespread on Puerto Rico, and pretty much everyone forgot about the CPRC and its weird experimentation.
Civil War Zombies
According to the research of historians at Haunted America Tours (http://hauntedamericatours.com), many Voodoo and Hoodoo Kings and Queens became wealthy during the Civil War in the 1860s by reanimating fallen Confederate and Union soldiers and selling them as zombie slaves. The sorcerers mixed up dead things in a big black stew pot. They ground up corpses and zombie fingers and toes to make special Zombie Brand powders that only the very rich could afford and only the very evil would want to employ.
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