Dirg Douai

A vampire from pre-Celtic Irish folklore. There are two versions of the description associated with this name on the web.

First: Dearg due, Deamhain fhola, Deamhan, Dearg Diulai, Dearg Dul or Derrick Dally.- this is a race of vampires from Ireland, whose origins date back to the unclassifiable pre-Celtic mythology.

A person cannot become a Dirg Diliat by being attacked by a vampire, but rather reaches this degree by experiencing the most disgusting possibilities of cannibal gastronomy. There is a long list of qualities that a person must possess in order to arouse the appetite of Dirg Diliat, for example, dirt: These vampires are strongly attracted to the unmistakable stench of the average medieval man.

Over time, the rigor with which they chose prey decreased significantly, to the point that they began to generalize to all types of vampires that feed on blood.

Already at the end of the Middle Ages, the term Dearg Diliat was used to classify the dangers of a wide variety of night spirits. It was also used to refer to mythical warriors who were feared and adored, from the dark pre-Celtic past, who were said to drink the blood of their defeated enemies.

Already in the middle of the Renaissance, the term Dirg Diliat began to add to the list of epithets of the ghosts of the old Celtic druids, whose restless souls roam the forests, longing for that violent past full of sacrifices and bloody tribute.

For many, Dirg Diliat are actually the disembodied form of fallen druidesses, that is, those Celtic priestesses who lost their way and devoted themselves to necromancy and black magic.

When the first folklorists of the XVIII century began to explore the folk traditions of Ireland, the Derg Diliat had already merged with the stories of the ghostly order. Comparative linguistics had to be used to trace their original appearance and thus trace the shaky genealogy of the past and nature of these elusive nocturnal creatures.

A creature can only die under the sword of a hero, that is, a person who has a blood connection with any deity, even a rural one. The others could only hope to immobilize him in his lair, an operation that consisted of erecting a small pyramid of stones over his lair, reciting old melodies and already forgotten spells.

The Dirg Diliat burrow has a double bottom, just below the grave, where a coffin, caisson, shroud or something else is usually placed, which their relatives' finances allow.

In this treacherous, cursed land, they collect the shins of their victims as snacks for the sacred nights of the Celtic calendar, the course of which they strictly observe.

The second is that this Irish vampire, who appeared before Christianity, looks like a beautiful but pale woman who can be seen aimlessly walking through cemeteries at night, which makes people kiss her, than drain their blood.

You can read more about this legend at Ann O'Regan (blogger, writer and Irish correspondent for Spooky Isles):

There are many stories about vampirism in Ireland. This is the tragic legend of Waterford about a lost love and a female vampire Dirg Dur.

Arranged marriages were not uncommon in Ireland's past. Several centuries ago, in the area that is now called Waterford, a young girl whose beauty was so amazing that men were fascinated by her and women wanted to be her, lived happily day after day and enjoyed the love of an agricultural worker. They planned to get married and have children of their own.

However, her father was not a kind person and did not care about love and innocence. Greed and prosperity were his masters, and his unfortunate daughter was his servant. He promised her hand to the rich and notoriously cruel clan chief in exchange for wealth and land for himself and his remaining descendants.

The marriage was arranged, and the wedding date was set – all the beggars in the world on the part of our poor bride were not enough to touch the cold, empty heart of her father or her fiance.

On the wedding day, everyone dressed up, and the bride was the epitome of beauty, dressed in red and gold. While all the guests were having fun all night, one man sat apart from them, cursing her father and vowing revenge on those who cost her love and life.

The leader turned out to be much more cruel and domineering than his new wife could have imagined. To him, the poor girl was nothing more than a trophy that needed to be locked up just for his pleasure, enjoying the knowledge that she belonged to him and only to him.

She was so depressed, so lonely and with a complete lack of hope that she just languished – did not eat or drink, just existed, her life ended long before her body gave up.

Her funeral was held modestly. Her husband took another wife before the poor girl had cooled off, and her family was too absorbed in their wealth and greed to even think about her. However, one man was grieving for lost love. He came to her grave every day, telling her about his undying love and praying for her return to his arms.

Unfortunately, his love was not the driving force behind her resurrection–revenge was the force that pulled her out of the grave on the first anniversary of her death.

Overcome with anger and a thirst for retribution, she climbed out of the coffin and headed straight to her childhood home. While her father was sleeping, she touched his lips with her own and sucked the life out of him.

Having not yet satisfied her revenge, she came to her heartless husband, finding him surrounded by women, fulfilling his lustful desires, ignoring the dead bride standing in front of them in the room.

In a rage, she rushed at the chief, causing the women to scream. His ex-wife was so full of rage and fire that she not only breathed, but sucked every ounce of blood out of his twisted and cruel body.

The scarlet liquid gushed through her, she felt more alive than ever, and she had an unquenchable thirst for blood. So eager to satisfy the impossible, the love that wanted her to come back to life was forgotten, and he was so lucky that he did not become another victim of her bloodlust.

Our rebellious bride used her beauty to prey on young men, luring them to their deaths by seduction, promising her body as a reward. Instead, she sank her teeth into their bare necks and drank their blood to quench her thirst and desire, but it was never enough. The warm red elixir of life gave her strength and immortality, and she longed for the next prey.

The remains of Dirg Dura (also called Dirg Doe) are buried in Waterford in a place known as the Strongbow Tree. Her lustful longing can only be satisfied on the day of her death, so on the eve of her anniversary, the locals gather and put stones on her grave so that she does not rise up and shed the blood of the innocent.

Sometimes the stones move, are forgotten, or her insatiable desire is stronger than any stone, and she goes into the night, and the unfortunate people become victims of the beauty and bloodlust of Dirg Dura.