Hot take: the wheel is an extraordinary invention. Living in New York City (where walking is a way of life), I am grateful for it every time I gear up my granny cart to haul groceries or laundry. The wheel allowed humanity to carry heavier loads, to be mobile differently, to go further faster.

But like many human inventions, the wheel can be mispurposed. With it, we’ve tortured each other in horrific ways. I’d heard about the infamous practice of being broken on the wheel, but apparently there was also wheel crucifixion, the wheel as a tool for roasting someone alive, tying someone to the outside of a wheel’s rim and rolling them down a hill, and the wheel just straight-up running people over. 

Given this ~well-rounded~ history of atrocities, it’s no surprise that wheel-related monsters proliferate across cultures.

Merry-go-round: Ixion

Out of all of the characters in this post, Ixion is probably the best known. King of the most ancient tribe of Thessaly, his tragic character flaw was being a self-centered douche. 

To wit: Ixion promised his father-in-law a valuable gift when he got married, and then just never followed through. When his father-in-law retaliated by stealing a couple horses, Ixion invited him over and then shoved him into a pit of coals, burning him alive.

Ixion’s neighbors (and presumably his wife) shunned him after that. Lucky for Ixion, Zeus took pity on him. “Hey, buddy,” Zeus said. “Why don’t you come to my pad in Mount Olympus.” Ixion gratefully accepted…and then immediately started coming on to Zeus’s wife Hera. 

So then Zeus was pissed, too. He tricked Ixion into hooking up with a fake cloud version of Hera (*shrugs*) and then blasted him out of Olympus with a thunderbolt. Then he bound Ixion to a wheel that would turn and burn for all eternity–first in the heavens, and then in the infernal abyss of Tartarus. The only time the wheel has ever stopped spinning is when Orpheus played his lyre when he went to the underworld for Eurydice. 

What comes around goes around, amirite? I hope for Ixion’s sake that they have Dramamine in hell. Speaking of hell…

Devil’s pinwheel: Buer

Not to be confused with buerre, Buer is a demon from the 16th-century grimoire Pseudomonarchia Daemonum. A President of Hell with 50 legions of demons under his command, he has been depicted as a lion’s head cartwheeling on a bunch of goat legs. 

You might be impressed that Buer is Hell President. Don’t be. It turns out that being a “President” in hell is sort of like being a “Vice President” in the corporate world, where a whole lot of people also have that title, and so in the end it ends up being a little less impressive than you’d hoped. Fifteen other demons in the Daemonum are also “great presidents,” many with more demonic legions than our 5-legged friend. 

If you’d like to summon Buer for your mid-level management needs, do so when Saggitarius is in the sky. Surprisingly, Buer’s specialty is not something demon-y like cursing your enemies or bringing back someone from the dead, but instead “he absolutelie teacheth philosophie morall and naturall, and also logicke, and the vertue of herbes.” He’s also good with healing infirmities and bestowing good familiars. 

Not so impressive anymore, is he? Fortunately, Japan’s got someone more interesting.

Reinventing the wheel: Wa nyūdō

Out of all the folks stuck in an eternal wheel of torture, Wa Nyūdō might have it the worst. He’s nothing but a giant severed head repurposed to be the hub of a wagon wheel, spokes driven into his skull, the rim of the wheel perpetually in flames. 

Lest you feel sorry for him, legend has it that Wa Nyūdō was born of a nasty daimyō (or lord) who, in life, routinely drew his enemies on the back of an oxcart. Now hell has forced him into service as a demon, shaving his head like a bonze in penance for his earthly sins.

And he hasn’t stopped being a dick. Technically Wa Nyūdō’s job is to guard hell’s gates, but he also spends a lot of time on earth patrolling for the wicked. And by “the wicked,” I mean “literally anyone he comes across.” His goal? To drag these “evildoers” back to hell. 

When Wa Nyūdō rolls into town,  smart people stay off the roads, inside and far away from windows. Even looking at him can bring destruction. There is a famous story of a new mother who dared to peek out her window as Wa Nyūdō came trundling by. The demon locked onto her and snarled: “Instead of looking at me, have a look at your own child!”

The woman’s infant broke into screams. She whirled; her son lay in a pool of blood, legs missing. Wa Nyūdō laughed, and the woman turned back to find her child’s thighs mashed in his grinning mouth, his eyes wild and mad. 

Roll with it: Katawaguruma 

Katawaguruma is the feminine version of Wa Nyūdō. She’s lucky enough to keep her torso in addition to her head, but is still impaled on a flaming wheel, damned to roll around for all eternity searching for the impious. 

Similar to Wa Nyūdō, merely looking at Katawaguruma will bestow a curse not only on you, but on your whole town. Fortunately, she is more forgiving than her counterpart. In a 17th century story nearly identical to the one I outlined above, a new mother dared to peek out her door as Katawaguruma rolled by. Katawaguruma whirled on her and cried, “Instead of watching me, you should have been watching your child!” When the woman turned back, her baby had vanished. 

Wracked with shame, the woman wrote a poem about the error of her ways, and posted it all over town. She warned other mothers to watch and cherish their children. The next night, Katawaguruma came back. She read the woman’s poem, and, apparently moved, returned her child unharmed.

The moral of the story? When crossing demons, a little bit of torso makes a big difference: You want a monster with not only a brain, but a heart. 🥁

Jesus, take the wheel

Is your head spinning? Do you feel turned around? Want to kick the tires on this here post and let me know what wheel-related monstrosities I’ve missed? Don’t spin your wheels; leave your thoughts in the comments below.

IMAGE CRED: The unparalleled Wikimedia commons.