In the heart of the bayou, where the fog rolls thick and the water whispers secrets older than bone, there stands a creature born of moss, mud and malevolence. His name echoes through the reeds like a bad joke that died in someone’s throat: KEVIN

Don’t laugh—he hates that.

With glowing eyes like lanterns lost to the swamp and a voice like bubbling tar, Kevin isn’t your average monster. He doesn’t lurch, he glides. He doesn’t roar, he invites. And when he smiles—wide and wet with a thousand teeth—you’ll wish you’d never heard your own name spoken back in his voice.

He’s not here to scare you.

He’s here to collect.

And tonight… he’s asking politely.

Fog & Storm Friday – Sunday
Lights Only Monday – Thursday