Hello, campers. Grab your marshmallows and gather around the true crime campfire.

We're your camp counselors. I'm Katie and I'm Whitney.

And we're here to tell you a true story that is way stranger than fiction.

We're roasting murderers and marshmallows around the

true crime campfire.

Like a lot of fairy tales, early versions of Little Red Riding Hood were quite a bit different

from the story most of us heard growing up.

There was no heroic huntsman with an axe.

There was no tricking the wolf into a well. At the end of the

tale, girl and grandmother were both devoured, and the only happy ever after was

for the wolf. For most of human history, wolves have been a source of real darkness and fear,

and for most of human history that reputation has been entirely undeserved.

But not always. Every now and again, growling sharp-fanged beasts have wreaked

havoc throughout the land, a grim reminder of primordial times when mankind was just another target to fill an empty stomach, and at least

part of the origin of the werewolf stories we still love telling today.

This is Pray, the story of the Beast of Jeavodin. So, campers, we're starting this one in the tiny mountain village of Les Ubak, down in the rugged

woods and hills of South Central France.

June 30th, 1764, just before sunset.

A girl's screams echoed down from one of the pastures further up in the hills, startling the village folk.

This was a tough land, where children started working not long after they started walking,

often as herders who guided sheep and cattle to their past pastors in the morning, then back again at night.

Fourteen-year-old Jean Boulais had taken some sheep up to where the screams had come from.

...