8 Creatures That Were Once Considered Fictional

The animal kingdom is full of wonders, and history is packed with tales of creatures that Western scientists once dismissed as myths. It wasn't until undeniable proof came to light that these animals were accepted as real—just like the ones listed here. Could Bigfoot, the chupacabra, or the Loch Ness monster be next? (Unlikely.)

Gorilla

In 1859, French-American explorer Paul du Chaillu returned from Central Africa with incredible stories about humanoid beasts so powerful they could bend the barrel of a gun with ease. These creatures had massive skulls, walked upright, and could eerily mimic human sounds.

Although bones of this creature had reached the West in previous decades, it was still largely unknown to most. The tales of this animal that du Chaillu brought back with him were met with skepticism, and he was almost ridiculed by the scientific community.

Du Chaillu regained his credibility the next year when famous English anatomist Richard Owen invited him to present his accounts, skins, and skulls to the elite of London. They were captivated, and his bestselling book, despite its questionable accuracy, brought this animal to the attention of the entire Western world. The enigmatic creature? The gorilla.

Narwhal

In the Middle Ages, most people were unaware of narwhals, though they did believe in unicorns. The narwhal, an Arctic whale species, has a long tooth protruding from its head, resembling the horn of the mythical creature. When Arctic traders realized they could make a fortune by convincing Europeans that the narwhal's tooth was a unicorn horn... well, they took full advantage.

Due to the rarity and value of these supposed unicorn horns, they became a coveted gift among European nobility. The Hapsburgs owned a unicorn horn scepter, and Queen Elizabeth I drank from a unicorn horn goblet, believing it would explode if poison was present. The Kings of Denmark had an entire throne made from unicorn horns, and even churches mixed ground unicorn horn in holy water, hoping for miraculous cures.

The widespread belief in unicorns began to fade in the 18th century as exploration expanded, and no evidence of horned horses was found. Conversely, narwhals gained attention, even being referenced in Herman Melville’s Moby Dick and Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Thanks to these literary mentions and our increasing knowledge of ocean creatures, the narwhal transitioned from myth to reality in the scientific world.

Kraken/Giant Squid

For centuries, sailors spoke of terrifying sea monsters rising from the deep to drag ships under the waves. In the 1750s, Danish bishop Erik Pontoppidan described the kraken as 'round, flat, and full of arms or branches,' and noted that fishermen 'unanimously affirm, and without the least variation in their accounts,' that the creature existed several miles offshore.

Even with similar reports from around the globe, including one about a 60-foot creature with sharp teeth spotted off the coast of Africa in 1848, few people truly believed the monster existed. Theories about its origins ranged from a water-loving boa constrictor to a 'very large seal.'

It wasn't until 1857 that we encountered a theory that somewhat resembled the truth. Danish zoologist Japetus Steenstrup took all the descriptions of sea monsters over time and speculated that there might be massive—some would even say 'giant'—squid lurking in the ocean. Until then, only smaller squid had been confirmed, alongside a single large squid beak that had washed ashore.

In the following decades, Steenstrup's theory was validated when several giant squid were found near the Canary Islands and Newfoundland, though they were dead. Due to their deep ocean habitat, the 'kraken' remained elusive, even into modern times. The first photograph of a living giant squid in its natural environment was taken in 2004. The first video came almost a decade later, recorded 2000 feet below the Pacific Ocean’s surface.

That’s not to say giant squids were sinking ships in the past; it’s likely that sailors were prone to embellishing their tales. Still, with their long tentacles and enormous size, it’s easy to see why the giant squid might have been blamed for sinking some vessels.

Platypus

The platypus might as well have been crafted by a mad scientist. For starters, it's a mammal that lays eggs, a rarity in the animal kingdom—the only other mammal to do so is the echidna (also called the spiny anteater). Add to that a beak resembling that of a duck, the tail of a beaver, and, oh yes, it’s venomous.

When British scientists first encountered this peculiar creature in the 18th century, it’s no wonder they thought it was a hoax. “It naturally excites the idea of some deceptive preparation by artificial means,” George Shaw, the keeper of the natural collections at what is now the British History Museum, wrote in 1799. You can't blame him for doubting—at the time, “deceptive preparations” of strange creatures were all the rage. In the 1800s, P.T. Barnum exhibited a grotesque combination of monkey bones, fish parts, and papier-mâché, charging people to see “The Feejee Mermaid.” And Cabinets of Curiosities were full of natural history oddities, often prioritizing curiosity over accuracy.

Unlike mermaids, Shaw eventually determined that the platypus was indeed real, not a taxidermied monstrosity, and he was the first to name it Platypus anatinus, meaning “the flat-footed duck.” To add to the strangeness of this creature, here's another interesting tidbit: it’s not officially called a 'platypus.' After Shaw named it Platypus anatinus, it was discovered that Platypus was already used for the genus of a beetle, requiring a rename. Coincidentally, another scientist had a platypus and dubbed it Ornithorhynchus paradoxus, or “paradoxical bird-snout.” In the end, an animal thought to be a hodgepodge got yet another hodgepodge of names, and it’s now called Ornithorhynchus anatinus, meaning “duck-like bird snout.” But we still call it a “platypus.” Sorry, beetle.

Komodo Dragons

The phrase here be dragons—or its Latin equivalent—wasn’t commonly found on old maps, but it does appear on a few 1500s globes. Some researchers believe that rather than a mere warning, it’s more of a description, as the phrase was located near the area where the Komodo dragon resides.

Whether you find that idea far-fetched or not, the modern recognition of the Komodo dragon in the West began around 1910. Lieutenant J.K.H. van Steyn van Hensbroek set out to investigate rumors of a giant lizard. His search didn’t take long—after a brief survey of the islands, he discovered what he had heard about, even managing to kill a 7-foot-long specimen. He sent the skin to a zoo director in Java. However, it would take another 15 years before the Komodo dragon gained more widespread recognition.

In 1926, explorer W. Douglas Burden embarked on an expedition to the East Indies to capture footage and collect specimens to bring back to the United States. Burden succeeded in his mission, transporting two live Komodo Dragons to the Bronx Zoo, where crowds of people came to witness these ancient creatures. The American Museum of Natural History also reaped the rewards of the expedition—many of the specimens Burden collected are still on display at the museum.

Burden's influence extends beyond the museum. His adventurous journey captivated many in the U.S., including his close friend Merian C. Cooper. Cooper, a screenwriter, took the thrilling details of Burden’s expedition—a daring explorer, an island harboring a mysterious monster, and the return of the creature to civilization—and transformed them into one of the most legendary films ever made: King Kong.

Okapi

The ultimate creature that went from myth to reality has to be the okapi, a creature that appears to be the offspring of a zebra and a deer (though its closest relative is actually the giraffe). The only place in the world where the okapi roams freely is the Democratic Republic of Congo, and it’s known for being a solitary animal.

Given their reclusive nature, sightings of the okapi were incredibly rare. Europeans called it 'the African Unicorn,' and the descriptions were so outlandish that many people doubted their truth. The tide began to turn when Dr. Henry Stanley—you might know him from the famous words, “Dr. Livingston, I presume?”—reported the okapi’s existence during an expedition in 1887. Even then, zoologists believed it was some sort of equine and classified it as such for many years.

In 1901, British official Sir Henry Johnston sent a sample of okapi hide to the British Museum, which led modern science to officially recognize the okapi as 'discovered.'

Okapi sightings remain infrequent. While they can be seen in various zoos today, spotting an okapi in the wild is virtually impossible. The first-ever photograph of one was taken in 2008, marking the first confirmed sighting in over 50 years.

Rhinoceros

“A unicorn by any other name...” OK, that’s not quite how Shakespeare’s famous quote goes, but with all the false unicorn sightings through history, maybe it should. Take the 13th century Venetian explorer Marco Polo, for instance—he claimed to have encountered a unicorn, though it was not the elegant, white horse you’d imagine.

Polo described the creature, saying, “Its hair is like a buffalo’s, and its feet resemble an elephant’s. At the center of its forehead is a massive black horn… Its head is like that of a wild boar, and it always carries its head low to the ground… It’s a dreadful sight to behold.” Today, we believe what Polo encountered was likely a Sumatran rhinoceros.

Even after Europe knew about rhinoceroses, their depictions remained somewhat mythical. In 1515, German artist Albrecht Dürer created a woodcut of a rhino that became the standard image for the next two centuries. The issue? Dürer had never actually seen a rhinoceros. Using a sketch from another artist and a letter’s description, Dürer’s print showed the creature with armored plating and an unnecessary, tiny back horn.

The rhino featured in the drawing had been a gift to King Manuel I of Portugal, who supposedly wanted to see if it could defeat an elephant in combat. Don’t worry—the showdown never occurred. Before any harm could come to either animal, the elephant was spooked by the crowd and ran away.

Now, back to Dürer. Despite the existence of more accurate depictions, Dürer’s image became the standard simply because of the medium he used. The woodcut could be easily reproduced, making it widely distributed. Other artists took inspiration from Dürer’s version, further spreading the misinformation. Public understanding didn’t shift until the mid-1700s, when a rhinoceros named Miss Clara toured Europe, giving people a firsthand look at what a real rhino looked like.

King of Saxony Bird of Paradise

Despite its fanciful name, the King of Saxony Bird of Paradise isn’t particularly eye-catching—except for one standout feature. The male has two plumes attached to the sides of its head, which Britannica describes as 'long head-streamers composed of about 40 squarish lobes with an enameled appearance.' These plumes can hang down like ribbons or stand upright in a V-shape around the bird’s eyes. So bizarre and unique were these plumes that when ornithologist Richard Bowdler Sharpe first saw photos of the bird in the 1890s, he mistook them for a hoax, exclaiming, 'I could not help exclaiming that it was impossible that such a bird could exist in nature!' He was nearly correct, as this bird is found in only one place on earth: New Guinea.

Even nearly a century later, the bird’s extraordinary plumes still captivated experts: 'There’s nothing else remotely like those plumes in the whole of the bird world,' said Sir David Attenborough, who observed the bird’s mating ritual in the 1990s.

To complete its oddness, the King of Saxony Bird of Paradise sounds as peculiar as it looks, emitting noises that resemble screeching, static, and rattles.