🪓 The Splinter Man of Lake Tawakoni

The Dark Beneath: Scary Folklore & Whispers Near Lake Tawakoni...

CASE FILE #10

TL;DR: Beneath the lake’s surface lies a drowned forest. Locals say one tree still grows—upside down. And from it, the Splinter Man crawls.

🌲 The Legend

Lake Tawakoni wasn’t always a lake. Before the dam, it was a valley thick with pine and secrets. In the 1950s, when the Sabine River Authority flooded the land to create the reservoir, they buried more than trees. They buried stories.

One of them was about a logging camp near the eastern ridge. The men there were rough, but one—known only as Red—was different. He became obsessed with a single tree deep in the woods. It was twisted, gnarled, and older than anything around it. He claimed it bled when cut. That it whispered in a language older than English. That it promised him things.

Red stopped sleeping. He carved symbols into his skin. He began feeding the tree—small animals at first, then something larger. One night, he walked into the woods carrying a mirror and a hatchet. He never came back.

When the valley was flooded, the camp vanished. But divers say there’s one tree still standing underwater—its trunk inverted, its roots reaching up like fingers. They say Red became part of it. That he’s still alive, splintered and stretched, feeding on secrets and broken promises.

Locals call him the Splinter Man.

He doesn’t walk. He creaks. His joints bend wrong. His eyes are knots in wood. And when he finds you, he doesn’t kill you. He scatters you.

🪵 The Signs

• You wake with splinters in your tongue.

• Your wooden furniture creaks in a voice you almost understand.

• You find bark in your shoes, even if you haven’t left the house.

• Your reflection in the lake shows you with hollow eyes and a mouth full of sawdust.

🩸 The Curse

Those who break a promise near Lake Tawakoni risk being “splintered”—not killed, but scattered. Their memories blur. Their words fail. Their voice becomes part of the creaking chorus in the drowned forest.

Some say you can appease him by carving your confession into wood and sinking it into the lake. But most don’t remember what they did wrong until it’s too late.

So if you ever find yourself near the eastern shore of Lake Tawakoni—especially after dark—don’t speak carelessly. Don’t make promises you won’t keep. And whatever you do, don’t follow the sound of creaking wood into the trees.

East Texas doesn’t forget its ghosts… and neither will you.

*Is it just folklore, warped by time and whispered through pine needles? Or is something still buried beneath the lake—watching, waiting, splintering?

You decide. But if the wood creaks tonight… listen closely. It might be calling your name.

If CASE FILE #10 is the first you're reading, make sure to go back and check out "The Dark Beneath" series of posts! The Dark Beneath: Scary Folklore & Whispers Around Lake Tawakoni

Until the next body drops,

Loretta & David Allseitz

"Unmasking evil, one body at a time"