"The Real Story of the Troll Of Wichita ( Goblin)

The city of Wichita rumbled with the ceaseless groan of construction, a constant symphony of progress that usually unearthed nothing more exciting than ancient pipes or forgotten foundations. But one sweltering afternoon, a jackhammer struck something unyielding and strangely organic. The workers, grumbling about delays, unearthed a sculpture – a grotesque, life-sized goblin. It was carved from dark, volcanic rock, its eyes wide and vacant, a permanent snarl etched into its face. Dust covered its ominous form, making it look as if it had just awakened from a long, troubled sleep.
​Initially, it was a curiosity, a conversation piece for the site foreman. But then, strange things began to happen. Tools went missing, only to reappear in odd places. Footprints, far too large for any human, were found in freshly poured concrete. Whispers circulated among the crew: the goblin was watching them. One night, a security guard swore he saw its stone eyes glow with a faint, malevolent light. He reported seeing the sculpture shift, just slightly, as if attempting to stretch ancient limbs. Fear, cold and insidious, began to grip the site.
​The city officials, initially dismissive, grew concerned when the inexplicable occurrences escalated. The goblin wasn't just observing; it was attempting to live. The tremors from the construction, the vibrations of the bustling city, seemed to be its lifeblood, stirring it from its millennia-long slumber. They realized they had something truly terrifying on their hands, something that didn't belong to their world.
​Desperate to contain the burgeoning threat, the city's finest minds devised a plan. They lured the still-groggy goblin to an abandoned section of the old bridge, promising it a place of honor, a quiet alcove where it could observe the city it was slowly awakening to. The goblin, still more stone than flesh, followed, its movements slow and creaking. Once there, they unleashed their trap. Massive, enchanted chains, forged in secret and blessed by forgotten rites, sprang from the ground, binding its ankles. The creature, now fully aware, let out a petrifying shriek that echoed under the bridge, a sound that chilled the very bones of those who heard it.
They built an iron cage around it, a formidable prison that glowed with protective runes. And there it remains, under the ceaseless drone of traffic, a forgotten terror. The city, in its twisted wisdom, decided that the best way to manage their fear was to put it on display. Now, for a small fee, citizens can visit the "Bridge Goblin." They gather around the cage, a morbid spectacle, and spit upon its still-struggling, stone-flesh face. Its eyes, though still stone, seem to hold an ancient, simmering hatred, a promise of vengeance whispered on the wind."

Luis M Rojas

"Took us a minute to find it. If you are coming from the parking lot at 777 W. Central Ave, walk past the bridge until the path forks then go up the hill. He is at the top. I had been told about the troll from my parents. They saw him when they were in Wichita so we figured we needed to see him for ourselves. Cool sculpture. A lot larger than I expected him to be."

Kerri-Ann Barrett

"Had no idea what to expect when looking for the troll but it was really cool. A bit creepy, but still cool to see. It was a bit of a challenge to find without knowing many details but we found it and enjoyed the visit. I recommend going to check it out if you are in the area."

Tylor Sherman