Berglund's twelve years of fieldwork among Zulu communities recorded the impundulu as one of the most feared and most socially consequential figures in the region's witchcraft belief, precisely because it was not imagined as a wild, unattached menace but as property, something owned, kept and passed down. A woman was said to inherit an impundulu from her mother or another female relative, sometimes without fully choosing to, and once in her possession the bird served her, striking enemies with lightning and drinking their blood on her behalf. Some tellings extend the impundulu's abilities beyond a bird's shape entirely, describing it taking the form of a strikingly handsome man able to seduce a woman and feed on her more intimately than an open attack would allow, a detail that folklorists reading the belief alongside its social context connect to real anxieties about seduction, illegitimate pregnancy and a woman's vulnerability within her own community. The belief's sharpest edge, and the reason it is documented as carefully as it is rather than treated only as a colorful story, is what it could cost a real person. An unexplained wasting illness, one resembling what outside observers would recognize as tuberculosis, was in some communities attributed directly to an impundulu's feeding, and suspicion that a specific woman harbored one has functioned historically as a genuine basis for witchcraft accusation, with the accused bearing real social and sometimes physical consequences. This atlas records the impundulu as the ethnography documents it, a belief with a specific inheritance logic and a specific, sometimes serious, human cost, rather than as an isolated monster story detached from the people who lived alongside it.