Episode 6: The Headless Mule

Brazil’s cautionary tale

In South American folklore, the Brazilian legend of the headless mule, mula sem cabeça, and Argentina’s almamula (sometimes known as la mulánima) stand out.

These cautionary tales are wrapped in layers of societal control, particularly concerning women’s agency and the Catholic Church’s grip on morality in its 16th-century colonies.

Tonight’s episode of Paranormal Pajama Party tells the story of both the headless mule, the almamula, and their older sister – the muladona, or donamula, of Catalan mythology. Hold on – we’re in for a wild ride with this one.

 
  • Steph: Before we begin, a quick content warning: Paranormal Pajama Party is a podcast about scary stories and legends, but there’s nothing scarier than the patriarchy. When discussing tales in which women are often the villains, we’ll have to unpack some stories in which women are the victims.

    This episode contains the usual amount of cursing as well as mentions of domestic abuse, incest, rape, slavery, genocide, violence and war. Yeah, it’s a rough one. Please be advised. 

    Tonight’s episode also includes details about the muladona, a mule with the head of a woman who is famous for scaring the bejesus out of mule trains in the mountains of Spain.

    I’m just a woman with the head of… well, also a woman. But I’m absolutely prepared to rile up your mule train. The only way I can be stopped is with a five-star rating or review of the show. Only if you like it, of course. Thanks!

    In the heart of Brazil, where the dense rainforest echoes with the sounds of mysterious creatures of the night, a chilling tale sends shivers down the spines of even the bravest listeners. It’s the story of the mula sem cabeça, the headless mule, a cursed entity doomed to forever race down the country roads in search of God’s redemption.

    The legend begins with a young woman we’ll call Adriana, known for her unequalled beauty with Raven black hair that cascaded down her back and eyes that gleamed with a mysterious allure. 

    Despite Adriana’s enchanting appearance, she was an outcast in her village as whispers of her illicit affair with a priest echoed through the streets. this forbidden union defied the laws of morality and tradition. And when the sinful secret was confirmed, the consequences were swift and merciless. 

    Cursed by God himself for her transgressions, Adriana was condemned to transform every Thursday night, her body twisting and contorting into the form of a monstrous creature – a headless mule.

    At the stroke of midnight each Thursday, a fiery blaze erupted from her neck and her limbs elongated. Her feet and hands turned to hooves, complete with gleaming silver horseshoes.

    [GALLOPING HOOVES AND MONSTROUS SCREAMS IN THE BACKGROUND]

    Steph: The headless mule, with flames flickering where its head should be, galloped through the darkness, its haunting cries not merely anguished but guttural, otherworldly screams echoing through the stillness of the countryside.

    [GALLOPING AND SCREAMING ENDS]

    Steph: It left a trail of destruction and dread in its wake.

    Locals who are unlucky enough to cross the headless mule’s path on these cursed nights say it’s a terrifying sight. Flames dance atop the stump where its head once rested and it moves with supernatural speed, chasing down anyone who catches its attention. All the while, victims can hear Adriana’s voice pleading for release from the eternal torment.

    According to the legend, there’s only one way to break the curse of the headless mule. A brave soul must approach the creature and remove the burning bridle reins from its neck, thereby granting Adriana peace and allowing her spirit to rest.

    But those who attempt to break the curse must do so at their own peril, for the headless mule is a vengeful entity. Disturbing its quest for redemption may unleash unspeakable horrors upon the would-be rescuer.

    And so, the headless mule endures – a nightmarish reminder of forbidden love and its consequences, roaming the darkened roads of Brazil forever, seeking absolution. 

    [MUSIC]

    Steph: Hi, I’m Steph and this is Paranormal Pajama Party, the podcast that brings you classic ghost stories and legends featuring female phantoms and femme fatales. Together, we’ll brush the cobwebs off these terrifying tales to shed some light on their origins and learn what they can tell us about the deep-rooted fears society projects onto women.

    I think tonight’s pajama party is the perfect night for s’mores. And luckily for us, our special guest this evening is doing most of the hard work for us. Get your marshmallows ready, because tonight we’re talking about the fire-spewing headless mule of Brazil and her hermanita, Argentina’s almamula.

    The headless mule, or mula sem cabeça in Portuguese, is a Brazilian legend who seems to be well-known throughout the country. She may look like a mule, but she’s actually a woman cursed by God for having sex with a priest. You know, the way season two of “Fleabag” should have ended. (I’m totally kidding. “Fleabag” is perfect. Phoebe Waller-Bridge, if you’re listening, let’s get married.)

    [AWKWARD LAUGHTER]

    Steph: Meanwhile, over in Argentina, women were getting cursed by God in much the same way. Only in that case, it’s because they were having sex not only with men of the cloth but also with their own family members… consensually if that makes it any better.

    Lest you think I’m defending incest, they could be cursed for having any kind of immoral sex which here means anyone that the colonial Catholic Church said they shouldn’t be boinking. 

    And you know what the worst part is? These women didn’t even have the decency to feel bad about that boinking. Disgusting.

    But if you have sex with the wrong person and God feels weird about it, and then you don’t even bother to feel guilty and repent, it could happen to you, too.

    I also have to admit that despite seven years of Spanish class, I’m muy rusty, and I don’t speak Portuguese at all so my research has probably relied too heavily on Google Translate this week. If you’re listening from Brazil or Argentina, or have Brazilian or Argentinean heritage, please let me know what I’ve mistranslated or misconstrued. And apologies for my pronunciation in advance.

    Brazil’s headless mule is usually brown, although sometimes her body is black. You know she’s coming because of her horseshoes, which are made of lead or silver and are louder than any normal galloping horses.

    And even though, as her name suggests, she doesn’t have a head, she breathes fire from her phantom nostrils or the stump of her severed neck. She also neighs incredibly loudly and sometimes sounds like a crying woman. That’s because even though the headless male doesn’t have a mouth, she’s tortured by a red-hot bridle that I assume… just kind of floats there. Unclear.

    Details are sketchy, probably because survivors of the headless mule are few and far between. But we’ll get into that in a second.

    I’d almost prefer that Argentina’s almamula, who’s sometimes known as la mulánima, didn’t have a head either, because one of my sources says that when she transforms into a mule, she keeps her human eyes. And that is maybe the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.

    Her curse isn’t contagious because, remember, she sinned willingly and brought this on herself. But if you look into her freaky human eyes, you could fall enchanted and be forced to run along behind her until the end of your days.

    The almamula mostly stays in the mountains, but can often be found on the outskirts of towns, especially during thunderstorms, which cover the sound of the heavy chains she wears dragging behind her.

    She spits fire from her eyes, nose and mouth. She’s also forced to wear a painful bit and often screams in pain when she steps on her reins and yanks it. Dark.

    So as far as I can tell, besides the differences in their appearance and accessories, the Headless Mule and the almamula have a pretty similar routine. They both transform from women into mules at the stroke of midnight.

    Some of the sources I read said that the woman’s curse only lasts for a specific amount of time, or it’s triggered by a specific condition, like a full moon or a certain day of the week. In one version, like in our story, this happens every Thursday night. I kind of like that. She can plan around that. Like, clear your schedules, girls – tonight we’re going galloping!

    Both of them seem to be doomed to run the same gamut of local parishes over and over again throughout the night, although the almamula has also been known to hang out in the mountains near livestock. In some versions of the story, both the headless mule and the almamula begin and end their journeys at the church door in the parish where they committed their sins.

    Along the way, both of these monstrous mules leave death and destruction in their paths. They’ll attack herds of livestock, eating some of the animals and leaving others injured. Their flaming breath is so hot it burns precious crops.

    Beware getting in the way of the almamula or the headless mule. If you cross her path, she’ll follow you until she can fatally trample you, or kill you with a kick of her powerful hooves.

    The headless mule is attracted to shiny things, but the good news is that she has terrible eyesight. Probably because she doesn’t have any, you know, eyes. So if you’re unlucky enough to come across one, you may be able to save yourself by laying face-down on the ground and covering anything that shines. Hopefully, she won’t see you.

    If the almamula sees you, on the other hand, she may try to bite you… or eat you.

    Seriously, if you’re feeding the almamula s’mores tonight at our pajama party, keep that palm flat, people!

    Finally, after an exhausting night of rampaging in pain, the curse is lifted upon the third crow of the rooster and the fiery femme fatales turn back into very tired women. But don’t worry! These poor sinners can still be saved. And if you guessed that only a man can do it, well, this must not be your first woman as a cautionary tale rodeo.

    A valiant and presumably pious man can remove the curse from both the headless mule and the almamula at great risk to himself. (Although, honestly, any of the curse-breaking methods seem better than actually being a cursed mule with no head or freaky human eyes that sometimes eats people just because you had consensual sex with a priest. But sure, sounds bad for the man.)

    To temporarily remove the headless mule’s curse, the man must spill her blood by pricking her with a needle, which should keep her lady-shaped as long as he lives and so long as he accomplishes this feat in his home parish.

    Alternatively, he can tie her to a cross, although that way she only stays the woman until dawn. And then the next Thursday night, it’s rampaging all over again.

    When she changes back, she’ll be naked, sweaty, and will smell like sulphur. Of course, then the whole parish knows who she is because she’s sweaty, bruised and exhausted. So I guess that’s when the public shaming for immoral sex practices begins on top of the whole being a cursed mule thing.

    The only way the headless mule’s curse can be removed permanently is by removing her flaming bridle. Once again, she’ll stay curse-free as long as her rescuer is alive. In some versions of the story, she’s so relieved and grateful that she immediately wants to marry him.

    Of course, putting the bridle back on her again will return the curse. But a man would never do that to a woman. Right? 

    Right.

    [HEAVY SIGH]

    Steph: To save the almamula with your masculinity, you must grab her reins and perform a ritual, ensuring the salvation of her eternal soul.

    This ritual seems to vary by story. In some versions, he can save her by removing her bridle or by cutting off her ear. In others, there’s a complicated ceremony involving using a knife to cut the shape of a church door into the street and chanting “Jesus, Mary and Joseph” three times while you pull the reins off of her head.

    I’ve got to admit, this is where my translation non-skills really fell over, so I’m pretty hazy on the details. I do know that the knife is important and I think it’s because, like, the guard thing at the end of the handle and the blade makes a cross shape. …Maybe.

    The kicker – get it? Because she’s a mule that kicks? Do you guys get it? Anyway, the kicker is that if the man who tries to break the curse of the almamula doesn’t have true courage, she’ll kill him.

    I don’t know how to tell if you have true courage. I guess you find out when you’re face-to-face with a naked, stinky woman… or you don’t.

    Believe it or not, these two are not the only cursed woman-mule monsters out there. Both the headless mule and the almamula probably came to South America from the Iberian Peninsula with the conquistadors in the 16th century.

    In Catalan mythology, there’s an entity known as both the muladona or the donamula, which either appears as a female mule with a human woman’s head or a mule that’s like… a fucked-up mixture of human and animal. Its mane is the same texture as a woman’s hair, and its face appears to be an animal’s, but on closer inspection, it’s clearly human.

    The muladona is also a woman who’s been cursed for her impiety. In this case, she’s a young woman cursed by her fellow townspeople for being irreverent to God and not attending church quite as often as she ought.

    As a mule woman, she wanders the mountains at night and joins mule trains. When the normal mules pick up on her presence, it can scare them into stampeding over the edges of ravines to their deaths.

    To prevent this from happening, muleteers – I looked it up, and they are not like Mouseketeers, by the way – muleteers feed their herd small pieces of bread shaped like the muladona, which somehow makes it easier for them to ignore her if she appears, and stops them from being quite so spooked. Muleteers also repeatedly count the meals in their train to make sure there’s not one too many.

    There may be a connection between the myths of these mule women and some of the folklore surrounding witches in the Middle Ages and Renaissance in Europe. In some stories, for example, the headless mule transforms at a crossroads, which is strongly connected to Hecate, an ancient Greek goddess of witchcraft, who was able to transform into various animals. Don’t you worry, Hecate-heads – we’ll talk more about her in a few weeks.

    But why are these women cursed to transform into mules in particular? To me, this is the perfect example of a horror story as a cautionary tale. In this case, the message is pretty clear: Women who go against societal norms, especially religious norms, must be punished.

    Female sexuality, already the scariest thing the patriarchy can imagine, is even worse if it disrupts the social code of conduct, like some kind of uncontrollable… animal.

    That’s exactly why, if you were responsible for upholding a patriarchal system, you’d probably want to tell a story in which fictional women are cast out and dehumanised to frighten potentially disruptive, real women.

    In the case of the headless mule, not having a head may also underscore the lack of reason these women have shown through their lustful actions. Without a head, she’s just a body, and bodies can get up to plenty of socially unsanctioned shenanigans.

    The almamula’s chains become a pretty obvious symbol in that light, as does the transformation into a mule. She’s literally a beast of burden, oppressed by the weight of her sins.

    There are several really good reasons that society isn’t cool with incest, so a frightening cautionary tale about that sort of makes sense if you conveniently overlook the part where nothing bad happens to the male relatives in the almamula’s story.

    But what about the women who fall for clergymen? Why are everyone’s vestments in a twist about that? Well, let’s talk about the male-centric colonialism that brought those evidently irresistible priests over to South America from the Iberian Peninsula in the first place. 

    Super-quick high school history recap: In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue and wrecked his ship, the Santa Maria, into the island of Hispaniola.

    This was both good and bad news for the world. On the one hand, the Colombian exchange meant that everyone everywhere had access to potatoes and therefore eventually curly fries. I think we can all agree that this is a very good thing.

    On the other hand, so many people died. So, so, so, so many people. And the Americas are still reckoning with the fallout today.

    It almost doesn’t make the curly fries worth it.

    Spain and Portugal were at the forefront of empire-building in the New World. This sucks because, as we all know, there were already people there. Several of them had established their very own successful, long-running empires. You know what happened next: disease, rape, enslavement, genocide. Things that are too horrible for even a horror podcast to discuss in detail.

    If you learned about the conquistadors in history class, you heard about Hernan Cortes, Francisco Pizarro, Ponce de Leon… lots of men. You probably also learned about the Catholic authorities they brought with them to handle the administrative, educational and religious side of colonialism.

    I don’t know about your history lessons, but mine didn’t really talk much about the other people the conquistadors brought to the New World: their wives, mistresses and slaves. And we barely touched on the Indigenous women who were already there.

    To quote one of my sources, which you can find in the show notes, “From the very beginning, together with the Catholic Church, the Iberian empires established a patriarchal order. The colonial order was intrinsically male-centred, and the Catholic Church, the centrepiece of this original imbalance.”

    In theory – and also legally – only good Catholic wives, fiancees and nuns could go from Europe to the colonies. Again, in theory, this was a group that would be really easy for the Church to keep in line, or even hide out of sight. Theoretically – and I can’t emphasise just how theoretically and clearly thought-up-by-a-dude this is – upstanding, gentle White women would have a sort of pacifying, civilising effect on the European men, and set an example for the Indigenous and Black populations. And the math works out, right? Since it’s just married and engaged couples and 100% celibate priests, missionaries and monks over there. Proper. Virtuous. No funny business.

    Except we don’t live in a theoretical world. We live in the Bad Place.

    As I mentioned several times, there were already women in these places, and whoever came up with this plan either neglected that fact or, more likely, didn’t bother to take them into account at all. Because when extremely violent men, emboldened by a patriarchal system that gave them all the power, had access to women whom the White government didn’t care about and who belonged to groups that those men were literally paid to subjugate, the result was horrific sexual violence.

    If you were lucky enough to be a European woman in the colonies, well, you still weren’t that lucky. The social order of the day was based on traditional gender roles, so a woman’s place was in the home, and she was subservient to men in every respect. Women even had to walk behind men in processions. Like legally.

    Fathers could force their daughters to marry whoever they chose for them, and because the Catholic Church is famously not a big fan of divorce, that meant a lot of women were trapped in abusive marriages out of cultural and religious duty.

    Many colonial women were subjected to domestic violence by their husbands, including usually racist insults and beatings. One of my sources said husbands would take weapons to bed with them to intimidate their wives into sex

    And lest you think it was just the conquistadors committing bad acts against women, let me clear that up right now. Not only were the Catholic priests secretly bringing their wives and mistresses to the colonies, they were absolutely involved in atrocities committed against Indigenous and enslaved women.

    To quote a contemporary historian, “The priests who taught doctrine under the pretext of teaching children and maids how to pray entered homes like madmen and did what they wanted with the women, using tricks and gifts. They raped many maidens, forced married women and reduced single women into doing what they wanted inside churches.”

    By the end of the colonial period, it was common for the not-so-celibate Catholic priests to be openly living with Indigenous or Black women. By the way, it’s not really right to say “living with” because unequal power dynamics in a sexual relationship mean that consent can’t be freely given. And I would say that the relationship between someone who’s powerful in both the Church and the state, and an oppressed or enslaved person is pretty fucking unequal. Sorry, this gets me worked up.

    In his article “Christianity, Colonialism and Women in Latin America in the 16th, 17th and 18th Centuries”, Maximiliano Salinas writes, “Ultimately, the power of the Christian Empire was based on renouncing sexuality, incarnated more than anywhere in women’s bodies. By rejecting the female body, ecclesiastical institutions and the state reinforce their own power.”

    One of the best tools the Catholic Church had to control women’s behaviour was its very own leading lady. The Virgin Mary was the feminine ideal of the Catholic empire. Serene, perfect yet approachable, and obviously White, which is pretty surprising for a Middle Eastern lady.

    She’s the world’s most famous virgin, so Mary is also a handy example for bad actors to use to discourage and shame female sexuality. European women were to, quote, “domesticate their sexuality in monogamous matrimony and without lust”.

    Based on body types, cultural norms, and some good old fear-based racism, Indigenous and Black women were depicted as dangerously erotic and lustful, which is not the first time in history that’s happened and wouldn’t be the last, either.

    Even if they converted to Catholicism, rising to the Virgin Mary’s perfect standard was especially impossible for Indigenous women. If they tried to decorate her image with accessories, jewellery, or clothing from their own cultures, it was immediately shut down by the Church. They couldn’t become nuns because, again, racism. If they tried to carve out a space of their own by interpreting the Bible any differently than the male clergy did, or including any whiff of their native cultural practices in their worship, they’d be labelled heretics. That was really bad news in many colonies at the time because it meant they could be prosecuted by the Spanish Inquisition.

    [DRAMATIC MUSIC]

    Monty Python: Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!

    Steph: Over time, the unchaste behaviours of the Church’s colonial representatives began to undermine their authority. One traveller wrote, “Priests are not respected. Almost all of them have families, and they lead the most dissolute lives. The common people laugh at their immorality.”

    Indigenous women in particular apparently didn’t respect priests the way the Vatican felt they should. Gosh, I wonder why.

    But if you’re a coloniser, desperate to cling to the prestige that ensures your power, I can certainly see why you might share a story from back home about a young woman who’s punished by God for not respecting his church. And if you’re afraid of women’s sexuality and its potential to erode your control, you might change the story a bit so that the cursed woman’s sin is that she wantonly seduced an authority figure. That’ll scare ‘em.

    It’s interesting that in the story of the muladona, the almamula and the headless mule, the woman is the only player who gets in trouble with God. After all, it takes two to tango.

    For the record, there is also a common legend in many Latin American cultures about a ghostly headless priest, and in some versions, he had an affair in life and died without confessing his sins. I think it’s notable that this story is less fixated on his sins and more focused on how scary it is for anyone who sees him.

    In the headless mule and the almamula’s stories, the burning bridal, painful bit, and heavy chains are an integral part of the tale. They make it clear that the cursed woman is being punished, and rightfully so.

    One of my sources suggested that her true sin is not that she had socially unacceptable sex – it’s that she didn’t regret her actions or feel shame. This source suggests that maybe it’s a cautionary tale about being unrepentant or prideful.

    It might be! I think like any good horror story, there are probably layers to it.

    But I also think that downplaying the roles that female sexuality and patriarchal systems have in this story does a disservice to the women who were abused, assaulted and even annihilated by those systems.

    Telling someone a cautionary tale is an attempt to control their choices. When we come across them, it’s important to ask ourselves who wants that power – and who they want to control.

    [MUSIC]

    Steph: Well, we’ve come down from our sugar highs and it’s time for lights out at the Paranormal Pajama Party. Thanks for joining me!

    Follow @ParanormalPJParty on Instagram to see visuals from today’s episode.

    To learn more about the headless mule, the almamula, and the muladona, you can check out the sources I’ve linked in the show notes, or seduce your local priest. You do you, boo.

    I’ll see you next week for more spine-tingling tales and critical discussion. In the meantime, don’t forget: Ghosts have stories. Women have voices. Dare to listen.

These aren’t your run-of-the-mill monster stories – they’re straight out of the patriarchy’s playbook. Imagine being cursed for eternity because you dared to defy societal norms and, heaven forbid, enjoy a bit of carnal pleasure.

Why we have cautionary tales

Cautionary tales aren’t just spun out of thin air. They’re carefully crafted to serve a purpose – usually to keep people in line and reinforce the status quo. And in the case of the headless mule and friends, they’re a warning shot fired by the church and the powers that be, reminding women to stay in their lane or face the horrific consequences.

Beneath the surface of these tales lies a rebellious spirit, a refusal to bow in shame and repent for actions they don’t regret. It’s a middle finger to the powers that be in defiance against a narrative designed to perpetuate subjugation.

By digging into the origins of these tales, we’re shining a big, bright spotlight on the power dynamics at play. We’re not just unravelling spooky stories – we’re uncovering the voices of the oppressed.

So, the next time you find yourself huddled around the campfire, listening to a ghost story, remember to ask yourself: Who’s pulling the strings here? Because it might not be the people whose stories deserve to be told.

If you’re enjoying the show, don’t forget to subscribe, rate and review Paranormal Pajama Party to help others discover it!

Sources

So far, every story I’ve researched for the podcast has forced me through a cycle of excitement (new story!), then panic (oh my god, there’s so much context I will never understand), then this tin-foil-hat, conspiracy theorist stage (everything is connected, man – but how?), and then – finally! – I find a source that helps me pull it all together into one coherent(ish) narrative.

This week, that source was Maximiliano Salinas’ “Christianity, Colonialism and Women in Latin America in the 16th, 17th and 18th Centuries”. Game-changer. Loved it. Highly recommend it if you want to go deeper into how the Church reinforced patriarchal norms, and especially into how the Virgin Mary was weaponised (sometimes literally!) against women of all races and social statuses. It will make you mad, especially in its discussion of the way women of colour were exoticised, demonised, and destroyed. It should make you mad.

Other helpful sources this week:

Credits

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Episode 5: Ambrose Bierce’s “The Boarded Window”