Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Creepy Confessions: Long Horror Compilation

Episode Date: January 7, 2026

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #nosleep #paranormal #creepy#creepyconfessions #darksecrets #disturbingstories #psychologicalhorror Creepy Confessions: Long Horror Compilation brings together disturbing personal accounts, anonymous admissions, and unsettling truths that were never meant to be shared. Each story pulls listeners deeper into paranoia, guilt, and fear, blurring the line between confession and nightmare. Perfect for late-night listening, this long-form horror experience proves that sometimes the scariest stories are the ones people willingly confess horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales,creepyconfessions, disturbingstories, darksecrets, psychologicalhorror, truehorror, anonymousstories, unsettlingtales, nightlistening, horrorcompilation, eerieatmosphere, longformhorror, fearoftruth, confessionalhorror, chillingstoriesThis episode includes AI-generated content.

They say her friend disappeared, that they couldn't find her, and they asked for a couple of maps to look for her themselves. Fortunately, at this point, the park staff reacted quickly. A missing girl wasn't a joke, it wasn't a game. They immediately called the police. We're talking about a very safe park, but at the same time, it had challenging zones. Christina Mary Calleica was born on December 19, 1986, to Elizabeth Roodle and Mario Callaica. The following year, her parents divorced, and her parents divorced, and her. her upbringing was solely in her mother's hands. Elizabeth, of Filipino descent, raised

her daughter alone in Ontario until Christina turned six. At that point, Elizabeth met another man, married him, and had a son, Michael Roodle. From the moment Michael was born, Christina became his protector. She was deeply attached to her mother and brother, and her dream was to help them one day. She wanted to become someone important, get a good job, and support them financially. Christina was the kind of person who thought about others before herself, always offering help and being affectionate. Yet, she was introverted, loved to listen, and was great at giving advice.

But when it came to talking about her own issues, she stayed silent, a trait that would later become crucial. Another important aspect of her life was her faith. Elizabeth was a devout Catholic, and Christina followed in her footsteps. It said that even at one-year-old, she prayed with her mom. As she grew, her devotion strengthened. She joined a youth group at her church called Youth for Christ, volunteered to teach religion to children, and participated in an annual conference organized by the same group.

After high school, Christina attended George Brown College and graduated in 2006 with a certificate in early childhood education. By the following summer, she landed a job at St. Bernadette Summer Camp, where she gave half her paycheck to her mother. Back then, Elizabeth was juggling multiple jobs and had little time for herself, so Christina's generosity was a big help. As mentioned earlier, Christina was very selfless, always putting others first. But she also had big dreams.

She wanted to volunteer in the Philippines and study at York University. She was determined to work hard, save money, and achieve her goals. And the first step in her plan was to attend the Catholic Youth Conference in Montreal on Monday, August 6, 2007. Christina was set on attending, but when she discussed it with her friends, they realized the trip was too expensive. Between transportation, food, and lodging, the costs were way out of reach. That's when her friends proposed a cheaper alternative. The group included three people, her cousin Fit Castillo, 20, and two friends from Church, Edward Maii, 20, and Joe Benedict, 19. Their plan was simple, during the conference days, they'd go camping.

It was a more affordable and fun option. However, Christina wasn't thrilled. She had gone camping before, specifically on the Sighton Trail, and got lost that time. The idea of camping again didn't excite her. Yet, surprisingly, she agreed. They planned a trip to Rainbow Falls Provincial Park in Ontario. This camping trip was meant to be completely safe. Each campsite was equipped with all kinds of amenities, showers, wooden cabins, fire pits with grills,

and clearly marked trails. The routes were only three kilometers long. There was a more challenging 53 kilometer trail, but they weren't planning to take that one. It was supposed to be a peaceful weekend filled with nature, streams, waterfalls, and breathtaking landscapes. However, leaving the marked trails was strictly forbidden due to the dangers of 240-meter cliffs. None of the group had any prior camping experience and had never traveled this far north. Just in case, they informed everyone where they'd be, with whom, and what they'd be doing. Each friend told their parents, but Christina only partially informed her mother. She mentioned she'd be camping in the mountains but didn't provide any details because, in truth, she didn't have them. The trip was organized

last minute. They found the park by Googling Waterfalls, the drive from Toronto to Rainbow Falls was about 14 to 15 hours. On Saturday, August 4th, at 10 a.m., they set off. They used Christina's mother's car and made multiple stops along the way at tourist spots to rest and refuel. They were in no rush, and the journey ended up taking longer than expected. Once they got there, they decided to rest. They unpacked, organized their things, and planned to take a short nap around 6.30 p.m. The plan was to sleep for 30 minutes, but no one set an alarm, so they ended up waking up at 10.30 p.m. They quickly got up, started a fire, and cooked dinner. At 12.08 a.m., they snapped the last photo of Christina. She looked happy, immersed in the moment. But after this,

things slowly took a dark turn. The fire went out at 3.30 a.m., and while the rest of the group wanted to sleep, Christina had other plans. She wanted to swim under the stars and the moon. Her friends, however, weren't interested. They were tired and urged her to wait until the next day. She gave into the group's pressure, and they all went to bed. At 6.30 a.m., Christina woke up and asked Edward to accompany her to the comfort station, where the bathrooms and showers were located. She felt uneasy going alone. Edward agreed, and the walk there was peaceful. It was early morning, the sun was rising, and everything felt calm. But the walk back was a different story. Apparently, they decided to race back to the campsite. This is where things get

complicated, as there are two different versions of what happened next. The first version is that they raced on the same path, but Christina got tired and fell behind. The second version is that they took separate routes, Edward the longer one and Christina the shorter one. Regardless of the details, they eventually got separated. A witness named Paul Gutierrez saw a girl running past his RV that morning. He lived in the camping area and stepped outside to enjoy his coffee when an Asian girl dashed by. He couldn't confirm if it was Christina, but he said she looked very similar. Edward made it back to the campsite, but Christina wasn't there. He waited for a bit, checked both paths, and when she didn't return, he assumed she'd gotten distracted

or taken her time. Later, he grabbed an axe to chop some wood and carried on with his morning. At 9.30 a.m., the rest of the group woke up. They noticed Christina was still missing but weren't initially alarmed. Her cousin suggested she might be wandering around, needing some alone time as an introvert. They thought she'd come back soon. As time passed, Joe went to the bathroom and kept an eye out for Christina. On his way back, he even checked nearby beaches but didn't see or hear her. By the time he returned, the group began to worry. They decided to search more seriously, walking along various paths. They encountered many people but never asked anyone if they'd seen Christina. Those early hours, crucial for finding her, were

essentially wasted. At 1.45 p.m., the group left a note at their campsite in case Christina returned and went to the park's entrance to talk to the staff. However, instead of asking for immediate help or contacting the police, they only requested maps to search for her themselves. Thankfully, the park staff recognized the gravity of the situation and called the police immediately. While Rainbow Falls Provincial Park was considered safe, it had its dangers. Leaving the marked trails was rare but risky. There were clear. There were clear. bears, and other hazards. It had already been hours since anyone had seen Christina, and finding her became a top priority. Before the police arrived, park employees began searching

trails and water areas. Their main concerns were that she had fallen off a path or encountered a bear. When the police arrived, they were given a detailed description of Christina. She was wearing a striped purple and maroon shirt, a blue hoodie, black pants, and running shoes. The authorities immediately flagged several red flags. Christina lacked camping experience, got disoriented easily, and wasn't physically resilient. Yet, they didn't believe she could have gotten lost so easily. The trails were straightforward and well marked. In the last few years, only one person, an older woman, had gotten lost in the area.

She was missing for nine hours before being found safe. Christina's mother also spoke with the police, providing insights about her daughter. She mentioned that Christina had experienced fasting and could go hours without food, so she wasn't worried about that. What did worry her, though, was her daughter's inability to run. According to Edward, he and Christina had raced back to the campsite, but her mother insisted this wasn't possible. Christina had previously stepped on a needle that got embedded in her foot.

It took a long time to remove, and even after healing, she struggled to walk long distances without pain. Running was out of the question. The search, the ghost of justice, the peculiar tale of Jose Maria Grimaldos, this story dives headfirst into the murkiest corners of an unsolved mystery, blending tragedy, cruelty, and an unbelievable twist. It begins in 1910 in the small Spanish town of OSA de la Vega, where a shepherd named Jose Maria Grimaldos Lopez worked at a local estate.

Known by the nickname El SEPA, Jose Maria was a short, unassuming man, often mocked for his absent-mindedness. At just four feet ten inches tall, he didn't exactly strike an imposing figure, and his tendency to drift off into daydreams made him an easy target for teasing. His work at El Palomar, an estate owned by the town mayor, was stable. While life at the estate wasn't idyllic, it was predictable, until August 20, 1910, when Jose Maria sold some sheep for 25 duros, a tidy sum at the time, and disappeared without a trace. Supposedly, he intended to visit curative baths in La Selle Dilla, a few

kilometers away. But after seven days passed, and then weeks, he didn't return. He didn't send letters. He didn't leave a single clue. Whispers of foul play, at first, his family assumed he'd gotten lost or run into trouble. But as the days stretched into months, darker theories emerged. José Maria had been carrying money, and some speculated he might have been robbed and murdered. Suspicion quickly fell on two men he worked with, Gregorio Valero Contreras, nicknamed L. Varela, and Leon Sanchez Gaskin, known as El Pastor. These two were notorious for ridiculing Jose Maria relentlessly, their teasing bordering on cruelty. The family filed a formal complaint, and authorities interrogated Gregorio and Leon. Both denied involvement, claiming their teasing

had always been in good fun. The local judge, Don Antonio Rodriguez, found no evidence linking them to the disappearance and eventually dismissed the case in September 1911. And so began the ghost stories. A town haunted by rumors. As time passed and Jose Maria remained missing, villagers began reporting strange occurrences. Some swore they heard his ghost wailing in the wind, while others claimed to see his apparition wandering the roads of OSA de la Vega and Trisjuncos. These tales took root, growing wilder with every retelling. Desperate for closure, Jose Maria's family pressed for the case to be reopened, and in 1913, they got their wish. A new judge, a terrifying approach. A new judge, Don Emilio Issa Echinique, had replaced the lenient Rodriguez.

Emilio was notorious for his unyielding approach to justice. He ordered Gregorio and Leon's immediate arrest, instructing the civil guard to extract confessions, by any means necessary. What followed was a descent into unimaginable brutality. The two men were imprisoned in separate cells in Belmonti, subjected to a systematic campaign of torture. They were given only salted cod to eat, left parched and starving for days. Then came the beatings. Civil guards dragged them through relentless interrogations, hanging them by their wrists, pulling out their teeth and nails, and splintering wood under their fingernails. Their injuries became infected, their bodies withered, and their minds broke under the unrelenting agony. Broken souls,

false confessions, after enduring this hell, Gregorio and Leon confessed to anything their captors wanted to hear. At first, they accused each other, each man desperate to show. shift blame. Then, under pressure, they invented stories to satisfy their interrogators' ever-changing questions. One day, they claimed Jose Maria's body was buried on a road. When this yielded nothing, they said he was in a cemetery. Another time, they suggested his flesh had been fed to pigs while his bones were ground into dust and thrown into a river. Their confessions were contradictory and clearly fabricated, yet they were taken as gospel. Even Gregorio's wife, Dolores, was coerced into remembering a conversation in which her husband mentioned hiding the body

in a cemetery. This led to a grotesque reenactment, where Gregorio and Leon were forced to dig with their bare hands in a fruitless search for Jose Maria's remains. In one heartbreaking moment, Gregorio, delirious and dehydrated, escaped briefly and threw himself into a river to drink, desperate for water denied to him for days. A trial without a body, on November 11, 1913, Judge Issa Echinique issued an official declaration of Jose Maria's death, stating he was murdered on August 21st, 1910, between 8.30 and 9 p.m. There was no body, no witnesses, no physical evidence, but Gregorio and Leon were declared guilty. Their trial, delayed until 1918, was a farce. With a jury of 12 already convinced of their guilt, their lawyer's only aim was to spare them from execution.

Miraculously, the men avoided the Garote, receiving 18-year prison sentences instead. Freedom comes at a price. Gregorio served his time in San Miguel de Los Reyes in Valencia, and Leon in Cartagena. By the time they were released on July 4, 1925, they were broken men. Worse, they returned to a society that saw them as monsters. They couldn't find work, and their families bore the stigma of being associated with murderers. Meanwhile, ghost stories about Jose Maria continued to swirl. His specter was reportedly seen in dreams and along lonely paths, fueling local superstitions.

His mother insisted she dreamed of him, claiming he told her he was lost, not dead. The shocking truth. Everything changed on February 8, 1926, when a priest in Tristjunkos received a letter from a priest in Mira, a nearby village. The letter requested Jose Maria Grimaldos's birth certificate, because he wanted to get married. The priest in Trist Junkos was dumbfounded. Jose Maria was supposed to be dead. Torn between duty and disbelief, he sent the documents and kept quiet. But news leaked, and soon the entire region was in uproar.

A stunned Jose Maria was arrested, confused as to why he was being questioned about his own existence. Jose Maria explained that in 1910, after visiting the baths in La Celadilla, he had an ominous feeling about returning home. Deciding to leave his past behind, he moved to Camperobles, Valencia, where he found work and eventually settled in Mira. He'd sent a letter to his sister years earlier to explain his decision, but it seemed she'd never received, or ignored, it. Justice reclaimed, the revelation rocked Spain. The Minister of Justice ordered the case reviewed, and on July 10, 1926, the convictions

of Gregorio and Leon were overturned. The supposed victim himself testified that he'd never been mistreated by either man, calling into question the motives of his family, who had once accused them so adamantly. Many believed José Maria's family knew he was alive all along but stayed silent to save face. After all, if they admitted he'd left voluntarily, it would mean enduring the shame of abandoning their claims of foul play. Aftermath, Gregorio and Leon were declared innocent, but their tormentors faced little consequence. The judge who orchestrated their suffering and the priest who tried to cover it up both committed suicide.

Others, including civil guards and court officials, escaped conviction. The two forensic examiners involved also walked free. Despite their exoneration, Gregorio and Leon lived the rest of their lives under the shadow of their ordeal. They found work as guards in Madrid and were granted a pension of 3,000 Pesetas annually, retroactive for five years. Reflecting on the ordeal, Gregorio expressed gratitude for the small measure of justice, saying, these Pesetas ease my household's burdens, though no amount

can undo the harm. A legacy of tragedy, the story of Jose Maria Grimaldos has since inspired films and books, many focusing on the horrors Gregorio and Leon endured. One particularly graphic film adaptation was censored for its brutal portrayal of the torture. And yet, as we revisit this tale over a century later, the question lingers, was justice truly served? Or is it simply another ghost haunting the annals of history? Upon hearing the theory, the Arnold's were very clear about it. So in January 1911, Mary and her son John boarded a ship and went directly to Florence, and once there, they personally questioned the convicted junior.

But he, cornered and under pressure, kept insisting that he knew nothing about her, that he hadn't seen Dorothy, that he knew nothing, that she wasn't sending him letters, and to clear up any doubts, he offered them all the correspondence that the girl had sent him. Let's begin. Dorothy Harriet Camille Arnold was born on July 1st, 1885, in New York, United States, the second of four children of Francis Rose Arnold, a prestigious perfume importer, and his wife Mary Martha Parks Arnold. The social and economic status of this family was sky high, they descended from one of the first English families to arrive in the United States,

the kind who emigrated aboard the famous Mayflower. Francis Rose Arnold studied at Harvard, and his sister Harriet Marie, was married to a Supreme Court judge. As you might expect, in a family like the Arnold's, all the children received a higher education. In fact, Dorothy studied at the exclusive Velton School for Girls and later studied literature and language at Bryn Mawr College, where she graduated in 1905. It is said that Dorothy was a very cultured woman and fluent in several languages. Her greatest dream was to become a writer, so she spent her time writing stories and sending them to magazines and hopes of getting published. But unfortunately, no matter how many stories,

essays, or articles she submitted, no one ever wanted to publish her work. In early 1910, she sent her first story to McClure's magazine. She was convinced her piece was brilliant, that her characters were well developed, and that the plot was nearly perfect. But the following week, McClure's replied that it wasn't good enough. They said her story was missing something, and that they would not publish it. When the Arnold family heard about the rejection, they mocked Dorothy. They said maybe writing wasn't her thing and that the most sensible thing was to give it up. Those comments hurt Dorothy so much that she rented a P.O. box so that all her correspondence would go there instead.

She preferred to read rejection letters alone rather than have her whole family find out. She didn't want her parents or brothers to see another letter from McClure's and instantly know she'd been rejected again. So she received them at the P.O. box, and if they were bad news, she wouldn't tell anyone. But if they were good, she would share the news with everyone. Still, most of what she received were rejections. In September 1910, Dorothy asked her dear parents for some money. She said she was supposedly traveling to Boston to see an old friend, someone she hadn't seen or spoken to in a long time, and she was excited to reunite with her.

Given this explanation, her parents didn't oppose the trip. They gave her the money and let her go. But days passed with no news from her, so they started to investigate, and that's when they discovered a truly scandalous story. Dorothy had been secretly seeing George Griscombe, Jr., a 42-year-old engineer whom she had met at university. Junior, as he was known, was a member of one of the most respectable families in New York. He had class, money, but his reputation wasn't the best for someone Dorothy should be

involved with. He was 42, unemployed, and lived with his parents. He might have had money and a good name, but without ambition, the Arnold's weren't interested. Dorothy stayed away from home for an entire week, and during that time, she lied to her parents while secretly staying at a hotel. If anyone found out that Dorothy was at a hotel with Junior, she probably would never find a decent husband, and the Arnold family's reputation would plummet. So when she returned home, her parents gave her a peace of their mind. They strictly forbade her from ever seeing Junior again, and they made it clear that her relationship with him had no future. But Dorothy was certain, she was in love.

So no matter what her parents said, she kept writing him letters, kept talking to him, kept meeting him in secret, and they continued to swear eternal love to each other. It's unclear whether he truly intended to marry her, but according to various articles, Dorothy was serious about the relationship. In October 1910, she asked her father for permission to live on her own. She claimed that she couldn't concentrate on writing at home, that she couldn't feel inspired, and that living alone would help. But Francis Arnold flatly refused. He told his daughter that real writers find inspiration anywhere, and there was no way he would allow his daughter to live alone. Many sources say he said no to preserve her honor. If he allowed Dorothy to live alone, he'd have no control

over who came in and out of the apartment, and if neighbors saw a junior arriving in the afternoon and leaving the next morning, it would be a scandal. In early November, the couple reunited happily, But this time, it was to say goodbye. Junior was soon leaving for Florence with his parents. The news deeply saddened Dorothy, but it gave her the motivation to write to McClure again and submit a new story. The story was titled Christmas Eve in a flame, and this time Dorothy was convinced they would accept it. Good characters, good plot, everything was perfect. But once again, just a few days later, she received another rejection letter.

This time, she couldn't take it. For several days, Dorothy appeared devastated. She started to believe she would never become a writer. From here, two versions emerge. The first version is the one given by the family, and according to them, Dorothy was indeed sad, but at the same time, she knew how to carry on. She was a strong, determined girl with clear ideas. She knew that a few failures didn't mean anything.

She didn't take no for an answer, so it was clear she would keep fighting. But the second version comes from Junior. According to him, after receiving the rejection letter, Dorothy sent him another one, saying she wanted to end her life, that she couldn't go on, that she had no talent and that there was no point in continuing. According to Junior, Dorothy wanted to die, no matter how. This leads us to December 12, 1910, at exactly 10 a.m. Dorothy got up, did her head. hair, dressed in her best clothes, and grabbed her muff handbag. She then went downstairs to

the main sitting room. Once there, she asked her mother for some money to buy a dress for her sister. On December 17th, a debutante ball was to be held, a ball where all the young people of high society were introduced to one another. So 19-year-old Marjorie had to look perfect. At first, Dorothy asked for a small amount of money. But later, she asked for a small amount of money. But later, a bit more, between $25 and $30, which would be equivalent to about $700 or $800 today. Mrs. Arnold opened her purse and gave her the money, then offered to accompany her. But Dorothy declined the offer. Her mother was very ill, so if she wanted to attend the ball, she needed to rest. Around 11 a.m., Dorothy grabbed the money, placed it in her handbag, and left. The streets

were icy, so she walked very carefully. Along the way, Dorothy ran into friends and acquaintances, all of whom said she seemed very happy, smiling, greeting everyone, and in great spirits. With so many witnesses, we can reconstruct her entire route. The Arnold family lived on 79th Street, and Dorothy walked from there to Park and Tilford, where she charged a box of chocolates to her account. The shop assistant said she looked very cheerful and didn't add much else. Next, Dorothy went directly to Brentano's bookstore, where she bought the book-engaged girl sketches. After that, she exited the shop and, right at the door, ran into her friend Gladys King. The two girls talked about many things, the ball, what they were going to wear, who they would go with.

At some point, Gladys invited her to join her and her mother for lunch at the Waldorf Astoria. But Dorothy said she couldn't, she was heading straight home through Central Park. And from that moment on, the two girls went their separate ways. Gladys went to have breakfast. Dorothy disappeared forever. As night fell, Dorothy never came home. Her parents called all her friends, neighbors, acquaintances, everyone, and no one knew anything about her.

That's when her parents remembered Junior. They knew he was in Italy, far away, and that Dorothy couldn't have gone alone. But what if Junior had come back? What if Dorothy had gone with him? What if he had taken her away? If anyone found out that Dorothy had run off with a man, her reputation would be ruined. And if she came back married to him, it would be even worse. So the Arnold's decided not to file a police report.

Dorothy's brother John had a friend who was, by chance, a private detective. So the Arnold's hired him. His name was John Keith, and he did everything possible to find even the slightest clue about the girl's whereabouts. First, he followed the route Dorothy took that day. He asked at the candy shop, the bookstore, Gladys King, and of course, everyone who had seen Dorothy. But no one, absolutely no one, had any relevant information. They all said she looked very happy, cheerful, talkative.

So Keith decided to search Dorothy's room, and the same. once there, he found a couple of things that did seem important. First, nothing was missing. All of her clothes were in the closet, so she couldn't have run away. On her desk, there were several letters with foreign postmarks and several sketches of ocean miners. To be continued, so the girl couldn't have run away. On her desk were several letters with foreign postmarks and several sketches of ocean miners. And in the fireplace, there were several burned papers, papers that, according to experts, were rejection letters from McClure's magazine. At no point did the Arnold family tell Keith that Dorothy had previously run away with Jr., but seeing the letters and the ship

drawings, he quickly put two and two together. So on December 16th, they sent a telegram to Junior asking about Dorothy. But he replied that he didn't know anything about her. For several weeks, Keith visited jails, morgues, hospitals, and in none of these places did he find a single clue about the girl's whereabouts. No one knew anything, no one had seen anything. So he recommended that the family take things a step further. He couldn't handle the case alone, so he suggested hiring the prestigious Pinkerton Detective Agency. This agency did exactly what Keith had done, visiting morgues, hospitals, jails, asking everyone. They went to the chocolate shop, to the bookstore, but once again, the Arnold family clung to the theory of the romance with Junior.

That's how the agency, repeating parts of the story, offered the following theory. They believed that Dorothy could have fled to Europe with a supposed lover. They thought the letters with foreign stamps and the ship sketches meant that the young woman had boarded a transatlantic liner and gone to Europe. But they inquired with several shipping lines, and no one knew anything about her. No young woman matching her description had been seen, and no woman like her had disembarked in Europe. Upon hearing the theory, the Arnold's were very clear. So in January 1911, Mary and her son John boarded a ship and went directly to Florence. Once there, they personally interrogated Jr. But he, cornered and under pressure, continued saying he knew nothing about her, that he hadn't

seen Dorothy, that she didn't write to him, and to prove it, he offered all the correspondence. the girl had sent him over the months. But after reviewing everything, John decided there was no clue in the letters. So he grabbed them all and threw them into the fireplace. After several weeks of searching, the Pinkerton Agency found itself at a dead end. No more witnesses, no suspects, no motive for a supposed crime, a crime that didn't even seem to have been committed. So they suggested to the Arnolds that they finally report their daughter's disappearance officially. Francis Arnold initially refused. He didn't want the scandal to tarnish his family.

But finally, on January 25, 1911, he was forced to hold a press conference. That day, Mr. Arnold not only announced that his daughter was missing, but he also offered a $1,000 reward to anyone who could provide even the slightest clue about her whereabouts. If someone had seen her, if someone was with her, if anyone believed they had spoken to her, just by saying so, they could earn $1,000. During the press conference, all the reporters asked the same questions, what was the girl wearing, what did she carry, did she have money, didn't she have money, where was she headed?

But the most repeated question came from one specific reporter, Do you believe your daughter may have run away with a man you didn't approve of? To which Francis Arnold responded, I would have loved to see her associate with men younger than herself, especially with men of intellect and position, men whose professions or businesses kept them occupied. I do not approve of idle young men. That's when what the Arnold's had feared happened. The journalists began digging into the life of Dorothy Arnold and inevitably discovered her relationship with Junior. All the newspapers revealed the affair, talked about their great love,

their passion, how they had run off together. The romance became known throughout the United States. And when Junior returned home in February 1911, his name once again filled the headlines. He paid large sums to have Dorothy's face appear in newspapers in Canada, Mexico, and the United States. He even sent public messages to the young woman saying that if she returned, he would marry her. But the love story had weak legs. The San Francisco Chronicle published an article that made Junior the main suspect. Supposedly, several employees of the hotel where he stayed in Florence claimed that a veiled woman entered the lobby and spoke with him for a long time. They said the woman was much younger

than him, very nervous, agitated, trembling, so she could very well have been young Dorothy. After a while, the young woman stood up and left, and no one ever saw her again. That's when all the theories emerged. The first theory said that Dorothy ran away to Mary Jr. In her mind, everything would be perfect. She spent money on her sister's dress, on clothes for herself, and on a boat ticket from the U.S. to Florence. But once she arrived, Junior told her he didn't want to marry her, that they had a good time, but he wasn't looking for commitment. So Dorothy, heartbroken, left the hotel and took her own life. The next theory was one junior himself hinted at, that Dorothy was so frustrated about not becoming the writer she aspired to be, that she said,

slowly fell into depression. McClure's kept rejecting her stories again and again. She was hurt so deeply that the last letter she sent Jr. read the following. Well, McCleurs has rejected me again. Failure stares me in the face. All I can see ahead is a long road with no turning. My mother will always think an accident has happened. Her family and friends never believed this theory. Dorothy wasn't that kind of person. She was strong, determined, adored, and a few rejections would never have stopped her. But many investigators eventually believed this story. Another theory said the young woman might have suffered amnesia. The streets were icy, so she could have slipped, hit her head, and lost her memory. But no hospital ever reported

seeing her, so this story fell apart. Another theory came from Francis Arnold, the girl's father. He claimed Dorothy was murdered in Central Park, that some thugs took her money, killed her, and dumped her in the lake. But police said the lake water was frozen at the time, and that if she'd been attacked, there would have been many witnesses, since Central Park has always been a busy place. Another theory claimed the family themselves got rid of her. Dorothy was uncontrollable. At 25 years old, instead of being married with children, she wanted to be a writer and had a lover

with no future. Again and again, they asked her to find someone else, to stop writing, to settle down, to grow up. But she wouldn't listen. So finally, to preserve their status, the family got rid of her. Many people believe this version, especially since the Arnold's waited six weeks before formally reporting Dorothy Arnold missing. But it must be said, there is not enough evidence to convict them. The final theory, and the one currently considered the most plausible, is that Dorothy died due to a botched abortion. At the time, a young woman getting pregnant out of wedlock was considered a disgrace, a shame great enough to make an entire family lose their social standing. So many speculated that perhaps Dorothy had become pregnant by junior. That rumor gained credibility

when, in early 1916, police shut down an abortion clinic in Bellevue, Pennsylvania. The clinic was run by Dr. C. C. Meredith and, at the time, was known as, the House of Mystery, as multiple women had entered but never exited. Dr. Lutz, who worked there and was later questioned by police, confessed that Dorothy had been at the clinic on December 12th. He also said the procedure didn't go well and that the girl's body was cremated. When this news broke, the family quickly denied everything. Francis Arnold said Dorothy had never been pregnant and that if she had been,

been, abortion wouldn't have been an option. For months, Dorothy's photo continued circulating across Canada, Mexico, and the U.S. The New York Times covered the story almost daily. But because of the massive attention, opportunists soon began appearing. Dozens of people called claiming to be Dorothy, to know her, or even to have her kidnapped. In February 1911, the Arnold's received a strange postcard. It was signed in the name of Dorothy Arnold and simply said, I am safe. The handwriting looked very similar to hers, but according to Francis Arnold, it wasn't exactly the same. So once again, it was dismissed as evidence. Time passed, and out of nowhere, a jeweler in San Francisco claimed that Dorothy had asked him to engrave a ring

on January 7th, a one-year engagement reign with several diamonds, inscribed. A.A.J.R.P. December 10th, 1910. Unfortunately, after 35 days of searching, police closed the case, categorizing it as an unsolved disappearance. In April 1916, convicted criminal Edward Glenorris, already behind bars, confessed that he had been paid $250 to bury Dorothy Arnold's body in December 1910. He and an associate it nicknamed Little Lewis were paid to pick the girl up from a house in New Rochelle, New York, and take her to another house in West Point. In New Rochelle, they were greeted by two well-dressed men, one nicknamed Doc and another who looked very much like Junior. The woman, apparently, was unconscious, just minutes earlier, she had undergone surgery. Little Lewis and Edward carefully

lifted her and placed her in the car. Then, Doc said the destination had changed, they were no longer going to West Point but to Wehawken, New Jersey. Obeying orders, they drove to New Jersey and discussed who the girl was during the trip. Little Lewis said she was none other than Francis Arnold's daughter, and he knew because of a ring she always wore, a ring people later said she had on when she vanished. The story could have ended there. Ed and Little Lewis left the girl in New Jersey and washed their hands of it. But the next day, they received a phone call, Doc told them the girl had died.

So they had to go back to New Jersey, pick her up, and return her to the original house in New Rochelle. Obeying again, they brought the girl's body back. Once at the house, the new orders were different. They wrapped her body in a sheet, dug a hole in the basement, and buried her there, hoping she'd never be found. When police heard this story, they went to Edward Glenorris and asked him to repeat it, but he refused. He said he didn't remember anything, didn't know anything, had never seen Dorothy. Still, the police didn't believe him and began digging at various houses in New Rochelle. But in none of them did they find Dorothy Arnold's body.

Over the years, the Arnold family invested $50,000 to find Dorothy. But, of course, all efforts were in vain. There were women claiming to be her. Police officers swore Dorothy had changed her name and died. married. So many crazy things were said that the Arnold's finally grew tired of it all. Francis Arnold died on April 6, 1922, and he died so convinced that Dorothy was dead that he removed her from his will. But his wife never believed that. She was convinced that Dorothy was still out there, and searched for her until her last breath, which she exhaled on

December 29, 1928. But now it's your turn. What do you think happened to Dorothy? Arnold. The end. Every morning, as Dorothy woke up, she felt an ache deep in her chest. It wasn't the kind of ache you get from physical pain, but something far more profound, an emptiness that reminded her of a longing for a place she could only reach in dreams. That place, with its endless gardens, towering columns, and serene waters, felt like her true home. She'd plead with her parents, asking them to take her back there. Please, she'd beg, tears in her eyes, I want to go back home, to the gardens, to my family. Her parents, bewildered, would always respond, Dorothy, you are home.

This is your home. But to Dorothy, it wasn't. Her story begins with an ending of sorts, an old documentary aired by National Geographic in 1982 titled Egypt, In Search of Eternity. The documentary opened with the grandeur of Egypt's iconic monuments and its ancient deities like Osiris and Horace. The narrator spoke of the Nile's unmatched significance. but the spotlight quickly shifted to one remarkable individual,

O.M. SETI, a woman devoted to unraveling the mysteries of the Abidus Temple. The film celebrated her birthday, capturing her joy with colleagues and her deep love for Egypt. O.M. SETI. SETI. and Rameses III. Even as an Englishwoman, she practiced the ancient Egyptian religion, considering Abidus her true home. Just three days after filming, O.M. SETI passed away, her body buried close to abidus. Her remarkable life sparked curiosity in many who watched the documentary. Who was this woman, and why did she claim to be the reincarnation of a priestess?

Thus, the mysterious case of Dorothy Eadie began. Dorothy Louise Eadie was born on January 16th, 1904, in Blackheath, England. Information about her early life and family is sparse, all we know is that her parents were Irish. But Dorothy's extraordinary journey began at the age of three, following a near-fatal accident. One day, while her parents were distracted, Dorothy tumbled down the stairs. The fall was so severe that she lay unconscious, unresponsive, and seemingly lifeless. Her parents, in panic, called a doctor who lived nearby. The physician arrived quickly, examining Dorothy only to conclude that the little girl had no

pulse and was no longer breathing. To everyone's devastation, she appeared to be dead. Dorothy's body was placed gently on her bed while her parents and the doctor discussed next steps in the living room. An hour later, the doctor returned to check on the child and found her sitting up in bed, playing with her bedsheets as if nothing had happened. It was a miraculous turn of events. Her parents didn't ask too many questions, overwhelmed with relief. Over time, two theories emerged, one, that Dorothy truly died and somehow came back to life, and two, that she had only been unconscious but suffered a brain injury during the fall. The latter

could explain the strange experiences that followed. A year after the the accident, Dorothy began having vivid dreams. In these dreams, she roamed through a majestic place filled with endless corridors, towering pillars, vibrant murals, and lush gardens teeming with fruit trees and animals. Every morning, she'd awakened feeling like a part of her was missing. That dream world was home to her, and she'd desperately wanted to return. She'd cry to her parents, take me back, please. I want to go back to the gardens. But they were baffled. Years passed, and Dorothy's obsession with this dreamlike world only grew stronger. Her family took her on a trip to the British Museum, a simple outing to explore ancient history.

But when they entered the Egyptian exhibit, Dorothy's behavior changed drastically. She darted from one statue to another, kissing the feet of every depiction of an Egyptian god she encountered. I'm home, she exclaimed, this is my family. Her parents dismissed her enthusiasm as a child's fascination. Egypt was, after all, an exciting topic for many children. Yet, for Dorothy, it was more than that. Later, Dorothy came across photographs of Egypt in a book or magazine, sources differ. Among these images was the Temple of Abidus. This is my home, she cried, recognizing it immediately as the place from her dreams. She also claimed to know Sedi I, the long-dead Pharaoh whose mummy had been discovered. I knew him,

she insisted to her parents, who continued to dismiss her claims as fanciful. As Dorothy grew older, her fascination with Egypt deepened. But it also caused trouble. Teachers grew frustrated with her as she challenged religious teachings. At Sunday school, Dorothy compared Christianity to ancient Egyptian beliefs, which upset her instructors. At another school, she refused to sing a hymn that cursed the Egyptians, going so far as to throw a hymnal at her teacher. Her behavior led to multiple expulsions. By the time she was a teenager, her passion for Egypt had grown into an all-consuming obsession.

At 14, Dorothy began having intensely vivid dreams, some of which involved Sedi I. These dreams became intimate, with Dorothy describing encounters that were startlingly detailed. She wasn't frightened, instead, these dreams seemed to fuel her conviction that she was connected to this ancient world. Her parents, unable to cope, sent her to various sanatoriums, hoping treatment might cure her of these delusions. Each time she returned home, the dreams and behaviors resumed. Eventually, her parents gave up trying to change her. At 16, Dorothy left school but continued studying on her own. She took art classes and worked part-time, saving up to purchase small Egyptian artifacts, trinkets

that were of little monetary value but held immense significance for her. At some point, Dorothy began to recall detailed memories of a past life. She claimed to have been Bentreshit, a priestess of Isis abandoned as a child. and raised in a temple. Bentreshit was deeply devoted to her faith, choosing a monastic life over a secular one. Her role required purity, but she fell in love with Sediye, breaking her vows. The affair ended tragically when Bentreshit discovered she was pregnant. Facing judgment and dishonor, she took her own life.

In her early 20s, Dorothy found work at an Egyptian magazine in London, where she wrote articles criticizing British colonial rule in Egypt. It was during this time she met an Egyptian man named a Monarch. Mom Abdul Megwit. Despite her parents' disapproval, Dorothy married him in 1933, and the couple moved to Cairo. The moment Dorothy stepped off the boat, she kissed the ground, overwhelmed with emotion. For the first time in her life, she felt she was truly home. Dorothy embraced her new life with enthusiasm. She adopted traditional Egyptian customs and quickly became fluent in Arabic. Her husband's family gave her the nickname Bulbul, Nightingale, and she gave birth to a son whom

she named Setti. Her husband tolerated her obsession with ancient Egypt at first, but tensions arose when Dorothy's focus on her past life and her beliefs overshadowed their relationship. Eventually, the couple divorced, and Dorothy moved to a small village near the Giza pyramids. Living near the pyramids allowed Dorothy to immerse herself in her passion. She frequently visited the Great Pyramid, performing rituals and leaving offerings. Her knowledge and dedication caught the attention of Salim Hassan, a prominent archaeologist, who hired her as a secretary and artist. Dorothy became the first woman to work for the Department of Egyptian Antiquities, a groundbreaking achievement at the time. For two decades,

she contributed to archaeological projects, translating inscriptions, and cataloging artifacts. In 1951, Dorothy joined a project at the Dasher Pyramids, where she restored tombs and compiled detailed catalogs. But her heart was always drawn to abidus. Finally, in 1956, she secured a position there. At 52 years old, Dorothy fulfilled her lifelong dream of living in working at the Temple of Setti I. She cataloged and translated inscriptions, advocated for the excavation of ancient gardens, and even accurately predicted the locations of hidden tunnels and structures. Dorothy's dedication to Abidus was unwavering. She became its unofficial caretaker, guiding tourists and sharing its history. Despite suffering a heart attack in

She continued her work at a slower pace. In her later years, she co-authored a book on Abidus and appeared in documentaries, including the National Geographic feature that introduced her to a global audience. Dorothy passed away in 1981, just days after filming the documentary. She had prepared for her death, selecting a burial site near the temple. Bureaucratic issues prevented this, and she was instead buried in an unmarked grave in a Coptic cemetery nearby. Dorothy Edie, or OM left behind a legacy that continues to captivate and inspire. Was she truly a reincarnated priestess, or was her story the result of a vivid imagination fueled by trauma? The mystery endures, inviting each of us to decide what we believe. We begin. Procurus, harlot,

corruptor of minors, witch and baby killer, Enriquez marty. She was accused of all kinds of evil-doings, and, because of that, over the years her figure, came to be compared to the terrifying Jack the Ripper. But why was this woman so, feared? Why has she been demonized to stratospheric levels? This story begins on February 10, 1912, that day started like any other for Anna, Gittard. She woke her daughter Terracita and, together they went to the market. They spent the, entire morning out, and just as they arrived at, the doorstep, they found some, neighbors there. After several minutes, terribly bored and waiting for her, mother to finish talking, Terracita, decided to let go of her, mother's hand and go off to play with other

children from, the neighborhood. Up until now, this story might, seem quite normal, a simple, anecdote any family could tell, if not for one small detail, when Mrs. Gittard, finished speaking, she realized her little girl had disappeared. None of, Terracita's friends could say, say where she had gone, and, none of the neighbors had, seen her leave. The girl had simply, vanished. The entire city, lived through two weeks of deep anguish, since this could have happened to, anyone. Unfortunately, in the months, leading up to this terrible case, there had been, a wave of disappearances, of boys and girls in the city of Barcelona. It was something everyone knew, but, civil governor Portela Viadaris, was trying, through

press conferences and written statements to convince the people that it was nothing, but rumors. Hundreds of, mothers had found themselves in the same situation as Mrs. Gittard, and to top it off, they had to endure how the higher-ups swept the problem under, the rug simply because, their children came from humble backgrounds. So, as you can imagine, the case of Terracita was the last straw. The population demanded answers, demanded, results. So the media and police response, was enormous. The police, focused all their efforts on finding Terracita.

They interrogated the girls' acquaintances, the neighbors, and searched homes aimlessly, but all their efforts were, in vain. So just a few days later, hope of finding her alive, started to fade along with the frustration. On the afternoon of February 16th, Mrs. Claudina Elias gave, a horrifying testimony to an acquaintance, the mattress maker from the neighborhood. She lived on Poniente Street, now, Joaquin Costa, and told him that just, a couple of hours earlier she had seen the face of, a girl peeking out from a filthy window, and it seemed to her

that the girl's expression was very sad. That was the house of the downstairs neighbor, who lived, with a boy and a girl. But the, pitiful face of that shaved-headed girl didn't seem familiar to Claudina Elias. She didn't think she was, the daughter of that woman. This could have remained a simple, neighborhood rumor. However, that man convinced her to go together to, the police station and report the story, to the municipal officer Jose N's, who in turn informed, his superior, Brigade Chief Rebo. Grasping the testimony like a burning nail, the police arrived there, as quickly as they could. The tenant of the apartment in question, was Enricetta Marti Rapal, a woman well known to the police, as in the year, 1909 she was arrested in her apartment

on Minerva Street, for running a brothel in which boys and girls were, forced into prostitution. And now you may be wondering how someone like that could be free. The answer is that at the time, she couldn't be tried for that crime because a strange, black hand had made the entire case file disappear. However, this time, they weren't going to let her get away. The simple fact that a neighbor had, seen an unfamiliar little girl, at her window pushed the police to, think that perhaps Enriquella had something to do with the disappearance of boys and girls in recent months, and especially with that, of little Terracita Gittard, who had gone missing days earlier and whose case had sparked major media coverage. But they couldn't just show up and

accuse her, as they didn't have enough evidence. They needed to find a way to enter her home, without alarming her in the slightest. So, on the morning of February 17th, Brigade Chief Rabeau knocked on the door, of the first floor flat at number 29, Poniente Street. A just-awakened woman opened the door. To avoid alarming her, the man said the following, Good morning, madam. I've come to inspect your, residence as we've received a complaint, from the neighbors. They say you have chickens, faced with such absurd accusations, the woman didn't think twice and let him in. She wanted to prove the neighbors were mistaken. However, the truth that woman was hiding was far more horrifying.

There was little Terracita, along with the supposed daughter of Enriquez marty. But who really was Enriquez marty, and what was her story? Let's find out. Enricetta Marti Rapal was born in 1868, in the city of Sant Felio de Lobregat. Very little is known about this woman's childhood. In fact, the only known fact is that, at six, some point she moved from Sant'Felieu to Barcelona City, where she would spend the rest of her life. She lived through the turbulent Barcelona, of the late 19th and early 20th centuries,

a Barcelona that had nothing to do, with today's version. At that time, it was simply a city in the making, where there was a burning inequality, between social classes. If the problems affected the bourgeoisie, they were everyone's problems. If they affected the workers, they were nobodies. When Enricetta was a teenager, she began to work in many trades, including maid, seller of herbal remedies, nanny, and prostitute. Various sources indicate she practiced, this last profession both in brothels and, in places like the Port of Barcelona, or the Portal de Santa Madrona. In 1895, she married painter Joan Pugelo, but that marriage failed, because, according to him, Enrique Quetta had strange behavior.

She was incapable of leaving behind her bad habits. The couple broke up and reunited a total of six times, and during one of their reconciliations, Enriqueira became pregnant. Faced with this blessing of life, she swore to leave everything behind for good. In fact, during her pregnancy she didn't set foot in any brothel. Unfortunately, ten months, after her son's birth, he died. for malnutrition, and Enriquella, filled with grief, returned to her old ways. For most of her existence, Enriquella led a double life. During the day, she was a poor beggar. She asked for

alms at charity houses, parishes, and convents. She wore rags and, occasionally held children by the hand, pretending they were her own. At night, Enricetta dressed in her finest clothes, and appeared at the Liseu Theatre, and other places frequented by Barcelona's upper class, such as the Casino de la Rabasada, a place we visited in one of the first paranormal tours, of this channel. But why this transformation? Why beg by day and become someone else by night? Because she didn't want the neighbors to know that she was the owner of a well-known brothel. That job gave her enough income to live comfortably.

And it was precisely in that role, as a madam, that her, horrific criminal story began. Remember the children who begged with her. Their fate was atrocious. In 1909, the woman was arrested, in her apartment on Minerva Street in Barcelona. She was accused of running a brothel that offered sexual services from boys and girls, between three and fourteen years old. With her was also arrested, a young man of high social status.

But it all ended in a scare, because thanks. to her connections with the Catalan bourgeoisie, who hired her services as a child trafficker, Enriquezsche was never tried. Her first contact with blood, was precisely in the brothel she ran. A client, in the middle of a sexual act with a minor, killed the child. Enriqueeda, who wanted to continue her double life, as she had, didn't want the authorities, to find out what had happened, nor what went on inside her brothel. So she looked for a way to hide the child's body. She came up with the brilliant idea of dismembering it. Once the body was dismembered, she placed the pieces in bags.

That's when she realized she had a unique opportunity to expand her business, organ trafficking. Although later on, her intention wouldn't be that, but rather to create products from human remains. It is unknown who Enricetta Martiz first, murder victim was, as back then there were countless reports, of missing boys and girls. Hunger ravaged Barcelona, and many parents sold or abandoned, their children to rid themselves of that burden. And in that context was she, kidnapping an undetermined number of children, from zero to nine years old. Lost, abandoned, or forgotten children, from the poorest neighborhoods. She would force them to beg alongside her, prostitute them, and later kill them, using, absolutely everything from their bodies, the fat, the blood, the bones, the hair. She didn't particularly enjoy, watching children suffer, nor did she do it out of

addiction to death. She did it for the love of the good life. She saw their sacrifice as a fair exchange, she ended their miserable lives, and they gave her the wealth, she had always dreamed of. Her modus operandi was very simple. As we mentioned before, she captured children that supposedly no one would claim, and after using them at will, she dismembered them and extracted the maximum value. She extracted fat from their bodies, and sold it to companies, in the railroad industry, to grease, different train parts. She also made use of bones, which she sold, to glue manufacturers. However, the most in-demand product was, the blood of children. Tuberculosis at that time was a deadly disease, and it was believed that drinking children's blood could prevent or even cure

it. Some say Enriquez marty didn't just sell children's blood, she drank it herself. To be continued. They say that Enriquez marty not only sold children's blood but also drank it, a fact that earned her the nickname, The Vampire of El Ravel. At the beginning of 1912, Barcelona's society began to panic due to the large number of child disappearances. But the authorities did nothing but deny this fact, even though they knew something truly dark was happening. They didn't want the panic to keep spreading throughout the city, which was already terrified ever since the tragic week occurred three years earlier. However, as could be expected, Enricetta's crimes had an expiration date, and on February 17th of that same year, everything

ended for her. She had kidnapped the wrong girl, one who didn't match her usual victim profile. Terracita Guaytart wasn't an abandoned or lost child. She was very well known on the streets of Barcelona, as her mother always took her along. She belonged to the middle class, was well-educated, respectful, loving, and because of that, everyone held her in great affection. When Brigadier Rebo entered Enriquez Martí's house, he saw two girls at the end of the hallway. Although the woman tried to block his way, it was too late, Rebo managed to approach the little girl with the shaved head and asked her name. The little girl answered, Felicidad. The man had

seen a flicker of doubt in her eyes and asked another question, aren't you Teresita? The girl hesitated for a moment before responding, here they call me Felicidad. Rabot asked Enriqueetta who the girl was, and she replied that she had no idea, that she had found her the day before, lost and starving, on Rhonda San Pablo. When he asked about the other girl, Enricetta got defensive and claimed she was her daughter, Angelita. But of the boy Claudina Elias said she had seen, there was no trace. In fact, Enriquella declared she had no more children. Immediately, they recalled her arrest in 1909 and interrogated her ex-husband about the girl she claimed was her daughter. And what did he say? That girl Angelita is not my daughter, who was

Angelita. And where was the other boy? After several weeks of interrogation, Enricetta eventually admitted that Angelita was indeed not her daughter. She said that as soon as Angelita was born, a sister-in-law took her away and made her believe she had miscarried. As for the boy, after repeatedly denying his existence, she told the police that his name was Pepito, that he was five years old, and that acquaintances had left him in her care. But one day, he got very sick, and She had to take him to the outskirts of Barcelona to recover. Little by little, as witnesses came forward to the police spontaneously, they were able to piece together the kidnapper's psychological profile.

However, the most important testimonies came from the little girls who had been held in her flat on Cayet Poniente. Terracita told the judge that as soon as she arrived at that house, the woman said, Don't you feel itchy on your head? Come now, my child, let me cut your hair and you'll get better. The girl agreed, while the woman told her that from now on, she would be her mother and that she should call her Mama in the street. But she never let her go outside, not even look out the balcony or windows.

Although when Mama wasn't home, she would sneak a peek in secret. Enricetta fed the girls on potatoes and stale bread, but strangely enough, despite the circumstances, she didn't hit the children. She punished them by pinching them very hard. The police asked Teresita if she ever met Pepito, but she said no, that her only companion was Angelita. However, after that came an extremely chilling statement. Sometimes we were alone, just the two of us, and that's when we were most afraid, because every noise scared us. But one day, Angelita said that since Mama wasn't home, we should sneak into the rooms we weren't allowed in.

Hand in hand, we entered the forbidden rooms in the dark. I tripped over a sack, we opened it and started screaming. Inside, there was a very large knife and children's clothes stained with blood. Angelita's statements were even more shocking. She had met Pepito and described him as a blonde boy her same age with whom she used to play a lot, until one day. Mama didn't realize I saw her pick up Pepito, place him on the dining table, and kill him with a knife. I went back to bed and pretended to be asleep. Her words shocked the city so deeply that a popular savings account was opened where people donated money for the girls.

Plays were written about the case, and the girls were invited to attend. In fact, posters read, Terracita and Angelida will attend the performance from a box seat, but the most shocking part was yet to come. Because during the search of the flat on Cayet Pontiente, they discovered, amid bare, unfurnished rooms, one exquisitely decorated room. It was a salon with luxurious furniture, curtains, sofas, and chairs. There was a wardrobe containing two boys' suits and two girls' dresses, silk stockings, and matching shoes for each outfit.

Also found there were the clothes Enriquez Marti wore at night. During the house search, they also found, a packet of letters, most written in coded language, a list of names that would provoke public uproar. The sack the girls had mentioned, which contained exactly what they were. they described, a canvas sack full of dirty clothing, and more than one dozen children's bones. Enriquez Marti justified this by saying she had collected them for anatomy studies. However, doctors noted that the bones had been exposed to fire, suggesting the children had been sacrificed to extract fat from their bodies. But it didn't end there. In a completely

sealed room, they found old potion books and about 50 jars filled with fat, coagulated blood, and other substances. They also searched other residences where Enriquez marty had lived in the last ten years, and in all of them, they found something. In Cayet de Picalx, they found a false wall that hid a cavity containing more bones. In Cayet tallers, they found more bones and two blonde scalps of very young girls. In a tower in Sanfellu Diabrogat, they found recipe books and new jars filled with unknown substances. Finally, in the yard of a house on Cayet Ages rural's descents, they discovered the skull of a child about three years old, still with hair and pieces of skin, and a number of bones that experts said came from three

children aged three, six, and eight. From then on, Barcelona talked about nothing else. Everyone knew of the existence of the name list found at the Caillet Poniente flat, but no one, absolutely no one, knew what was on it. Outrage swept over Barcelona, and the conservative of press tried to calm the public to avoid further unrest, claiming that the names belonged to charity workers who helped Enriqueira when she begged on the streets. But no one believed it. When news broke that Enriqueira Marti had tried to slit her wrists with a wooden spoon in her cell at Raina Amalia prison, public irritation turned to fury. Authorities feared that if she died, a riot would erupt. To prevent Enriqueira from taking her own life, they took all precautions,

even involving fellow inmates to keep her from succeeding. However, public interest in the case began to fade, as no more macabre discoveries were made in her multiple residences. And finally, the loss of interest was sealed when the news of the Titanic sinking broke during the early morning hours of April 14th to 15th, 1912. Ultimately, on May 12, 1912, Enriquez Marti died. Some say she was lynched by her fellow inmates in the prison courtyard. Others say she was already dead, poisoned by someone who wanted her gone.

Nothing could be proven. The only certain thing is that there was never a trial, and those whose names were on that secret list slept much more peacefully that night. While many experts defend the story I've just told you as real, others have worked hard to prove none of it is true. Art historian and writer Elsa Plaza, in her book, dismantling the case of the vampire of Barcelona, argues that a simple kidnapping triggered rumors and suspicions the police used to feed a press eager for scandal, exaggerating and distorting the facts. According to her, they went from signs of

criminal behavior to a list of bloody crimes whose truth has never been proven. In her book, Elsa Plaza documents numerous reports of labor, commercial, and sexual exploitation of both children and women at the time. And in that context, Enriquezsche appeared as a scapegoat to blame for child disappearances and trafficking, while concealing, for example, the abduction of children sent to France to be exploited in glass factories. Late 19th century Barcelona, a city with 50% illiteracy and 12,000 prostitutes, was the perfect setting for a sinister tale. But that woman wasn't even lynched by her fellow inmates.

In fact, it said that her cause of death was a terrible uterine cancer, which could also explain the bloody clothes found in her home, since she was a woman. her illness caused severe vaginal hemorrhaging. Writer Jordi Karamana suggests that Terracita's kidnapping might be linked to Enriquez Marti's trauma from losing a child. But now it's your turn. What do you think of all this? Do you believe Enriquez Mardi was a terrible killer or just a scapegoat? The end. A sinister mystery, the tragic case of Fermin Villegas. You know, sometimes life throws you stories that are so bizarre, so utterly baffling, they sound like they're straight out of a horror novel. This is one of those stories.

It starts on what seemed like a perfectly ordinary day in the city of Blains, Gerona. It was Monday, May 12, 1980, and for a 10-year-old boy named Fermin Villegas Cordoba, this day would change everything, for him, for his family, and for an entire community. Little did anyone know, it was about to become one of Spain's most haunting unsolved cases. The day it all began. Fermin Villegas was your typical kid, full of life and curious about the world. His family was an Andalusian working class household, his dad, Formin Villegas Martinez, worked as a cook in a local restaurant, while his mom was a homemaker. Fermin had a younger sibling, and on that Monday morning, he was all set to go to school at Santa Maria. He was carrying a secret excitement, though, he'd recently gotten some silkworms, and the plan for the day was to gather leaves to feed them.

Simple joys, right? Ferman even brought his bike to school, eager to zip off and collect those leaves after class. He had arranged to go with a friend, but at the last minute, the friend bailed. We don't know why. Maybe he was grounded, maybe he had other plans, but Ferman wasn't deterred. He decided to head out on his own. At 5 p.m., as school let out, Ferman hopped on his bike and peddled toward his cousin's house. It was just a 15-minute walk away, and Ferman knew the route like the back of his hand.

The area was safe, dotted with fields, irrigation huts, and a scattering of houses. It seemed like the perfect place for a kid to wander. At around 6 p.m., Fermin's family saw him near their home, still riding his bike. Everything seemed fine. But by 8 p.m., his parents started to worry. Fermin hadn't come home. Initially, they figured he might have lost track of time. But when 9 p.m. rolled around with no sign of him, his father took action.

He first went to the cousin's house, where Furmin had said he'd be. The news was unsettling, Formin had stopped by, but his cousins hadn't been able to hang out because they were grounded. That left one grim possibility, Furmin had been alone. The search begins. The worried father next visited the home of Furmin's school friend. Maybe Furmin had changed his plans and gone there. Nope.

The friend's parents confirmed Furmin wasn't there either. Desperation setting in, Furmin's dad headed to the school itself. It was a religious institution, and the teachers lived on site, so he figured someone might know something. At around 11 p.m., Fermin's dad arrived at the school and met with a teacher named Father Antonio Estrada. And here's where things got downright weird. Father Estrada acted nervous and evasive.

He didn't have contact information for Furmin's friends, and when asked for a phone to make calls, he claimed the school's phone was broken. The man's reluctance to help was suspicious, to say the least. With no leads from the school, Fermin's family contacted the Civil Guard. The search began immediately, even though it was pouring rain that night. Friends, neighbors, Red Cross volunteers, and the authorities all joined in. Despite the chaos and disorganization of the search efforts, a group of sniffer dogs picked up a scent that led to an old farmhouse, or FMasia, not far from where Fermin was last seen.

A chilling discovery, the Civil Guard knocked on the farmhouse door that night, but no one answered. Instead of forcing entry or getting a warrant right away, the officers left and returned the next morning. This delay would prove costly. When they finally searched the property, they found three residents, a married couple in their thirties and their 30-year-old son, who had developmental disabilities. The father, Nicholas Ruiz La Fuente, was an illiterate farmer from Aragon. His wife, known for selling produce at the local market, had been institutionalized several

times due to mental health issues. Their son, Vicente Ruiz Vidal, helped his dad with farm work. By all accounts, the family was reclusive and deeply religious, often talking about visions of God and handing out religious pamphlets. Initially, the family didn't raise many red flags. Sure, they were eccentric, but the neighbors described them as harmless. That changed on Thursday, May 15. Just 100 meters from the farmhouse, searchers found Furmin's belongings, his bike, his school

bag, and a belt from his uniform. Years later, in the same area, they made the grimest discovery of all, for men's body. The boy had been partially covered with fresh nettle leaves. His shirt was pulled up, his pants were down, and his body bore stab wounds. Defensive cuts on his hands suggested he'd fought back. The autopsy revealed he'd been brutally violated, strangled, and stabbed three times, once in the back and twice in the chest. It was an unimaginably cruel end for such a young life.

arrests, all eyes turned to the farmhouse. After all, the sniffer dogs had led the search team there, and the family living just 100 meters away seemed, off. Nicholas Ruiz and his son Vicente were arrested. During his initial interrogation, Nicholas pointed the finger at Vicente, claiming he'd seen his son kill for men, assault him, and hide the body. Vicente denied everything, but Nicholas' confession seemed damning. The two were held in custody and brought back to their farmhouse to reenact the crime. But as they walked through the supposed events, Nicholas began acting erratically. He rambled about being forced to confess by the king or a politician. At one point, he completely lost control and tried to slit his own throat with a kitchen knife.

It became clear that Nicholas wasn't mentally stable. When investigators searched the farmhouse for evidence, they found nothing to link the family to Fermin. No blood, no murder weapon, nothing. was as if Fermin had never been inside. With no concrete evidence, Nicholas and Vicente were released after 15 days. And just like that, the case was back to square one. Suspicion falls on Father Estrada. As investigators scoured for leads, Furmin's family couldn't shake their unease about Father Antonio Estrada. His strange behavior on the night Furmin disappeared stuck out like a sore thumb. What was he hiding? When police looked into his background, they discovered even more troubling details.

Father Estrada had a history of inappropriate behavior with students, especially teenage girls. He'd been warned multiple times by the school's director to keep his distance. Furmin's sister, 15-year-old Maria Angelus, revealed that Estrada often invited female students to his quarters under the guise of listening to music. He never did this with the boys, but the pattern was still alarming. Despite these red flags, the investigation into Estrada hit a dead end.

Just two months after Furmin's murder, his religious order transferred him to Mexico. The timing couldn't have been more suspicious, but without evidence tying him to the crime, there was little authorities could do. A darker theory, as weeks turned into months, whispers of a sinister conspiracy began to circulate in blames. Some believed Furmin had been abducted by powerful people. One theory suggested he'd been kidnapped in broad daylight by someone in a car. This idea gained traction because of key details, Fur min's

belongings had been dumped in one spot, and his body appeared there later, implying he'd been killed elsewhere and moved. The autopsy also suggested he'd been assaulted multiple times, raising the possibility of multiple perpetrators. Adding fuel to the fire, a peculiar poem surfaced. A prisoner named Elias Revert Zuckarach sent the poem, titled to an angel who has left, to a local newspaper. In it, he hinted that important people were involved in Furmin's death. But when police questioned him, Revert claimed he knew nothing about the case. and that the poem was purely fictional. The cycling coach, just when the case seemed like it couldn't get stranger, another suspect emerged,

won Jose Alvarez Blanco. A cycling coach who had been accused of abusing minors in nearby towns, Alvarez was a textbook predator. He posed as the head of a youth cycling team, showering kids and their parents with gifts to gain their trust. Once he'd earned their confidence, he'd abuse his victims. Alvarez operated near schools in Blains, so it wasn't a stretch to think he might have targeted. Ferman. However, when police interrogated him, he denied any connection to the boy. His known victims also said they'd never seen Ferman before. With no evidence linking Alvarez to the crime, he was ruled out. An unresolved tragedy, by the following year, the case had hit a wall.

In 1981, Ferman's family received a chilling letter from the courts. The investigation was being closed due to lack of suspects. The family was devastated. Fermin's father penned a heart breaking letter to the Ministry of Justice, demanding accountability and decrying the system's failure to deliver justice for his son. Tragically, Fermin's father wouldn't live to see any resolution. Just a month after writing the letter, he was found dead in a field. Officially, he'd suffered a heart attack while walking his dog, but the lack of an autopsy left lingering doubts.

Had grief and stress claimed his life, or was there something more sinister at play? Theories and unanswered questions. So, who killed Fermin Villegas? Was it Nicholas and Vicente from the farmhouse? Father Estrada? Juan Jose Alvarez Blanco. Or was it someone more powerful, as the conspiracy theories suggest? The truth remains elusive, locked away with whoever committed this heinous crime.

Forty years later, Furmin's case is a chilling reminder of how justice can sometimes slip through the cracks. The unanswered questions linger, haunting the town of Blains and everyone who hears this tragic tale. What do you think? Was it a tragic failure of law enforcement, or something darker and more calculated? They get tired of the shouting, the insults, the lack of respect. That's why at a certain point they decide to abandon them. They stopped the car at a service area in Breakdown, Florida, and when Jess and Wendy get out to buy food, the guys start the engine and drive away. It is at this point when the couple realizes that their dream trip is not as idyllic as they had imagined.

They had no jobs, very little money, and were carrying no identification, so they were forced to sleep under a bridge in Dade City. Let's begin. The story starts with a 16-year-old girl named Wendy Vaughan, who was born and raised in Kankakee, Illinois. Her life there was ideal. She liked reading, writing, and had real friends. However, in 1995 she and her parents moved to Woodstock, which was located about an hour and a half from Kankakee. The area was very nice, there were good schools, nice houses, and the crime rate was very low. So life there also seemed perfect. Unfortunately, Wendy never really

settled in. She missed her home, her friends, her old neighborhood. And although she made new friends in Woodstock, she didn't feel like she could put down roots there. However, in December of 1996, something changed, Wendy met a 19-year-old boy named Jesse Owl. Jesse was a guy with a somewhat troubled past, he had gotten into trouble and hung around with the wrong people. But with Wendy, he completely changed his attitude. He stopped drinking, stopped smoking, and Wendy became his whole world. The two of them started spending a lot of time together. They met every day, at all hours.

Their love grew to the point where they can see. considered themselves soulmates. So they told their parents that they intended to get married. At first, the parents didn't take it too seriously. It was their first love, teenage hormones. But at a certain point, things got very serious, and Jesse was convinced he wanted to marry Wendy right away. That's when the adults had to intervene. They said it was too soon to make that kind decision, that they were still young, had a whole life ahead of them, needed to study, needed to work. But apparently, the kids were sure about what they wanted. And since their parents wouldn't let them take the step, they decided to do it behind their backs. For months,

they saved all the money they could. With that money, Jesse bought a ring for Wendy and then bought a second-hand car, a car they intended to use to travel all across the United States in search of jobs, a home, and a decent wedding. Unfortunately, there was a small problem, Jesse didn't know how to drive. So he invited a couple of friends who did have a license to go on the trip with him and Wendy. Then came February 22, 1997. That day, Wendy told her parents she was going to sleep over at a friend's house, and Jesse told his the same thing. All of the couple's friends knew what they were planning. They knew they were going to travel across. the United States, and every one of them saw them get into the car and waved goodbye. They also knew

it could be dangerous, but they gave their word they wouldn't tell anyone. Days passed, and the families of the couple reported them missing. Relatives, acquaintances, neighbors, all were questioned. And when it was the friend's turn, they said they knew where they were but, unfortunately, couldn't say anything. So the officers were left with their hands tied. The trip, at first, went fairly well. The four young people made stops, slept in the car, did some sightseeing, bought food and clothes, and kept sleeping in the car. But at a certain point, Jesse and Wendy began to argue. They couldn't agree on their next destinations, and little by little the money began to run out. As time went on, their relationship became more and more tense. The friends

who had joined them started getting fed up with their attitude, tired of the shouting, the insults, the disrespect. So at a certain point, they decided to leave them. They stopped the car at a service station in Breakdown, Florida, and when Jesse and Wendy got out to buy food, the friend started the engine and drove away. It was then when the couple realized that their dream trip wasn't as perfect as they had imagined. They had no job, very little money, and no ID, so they were forced to sleep under a bridge in Dade City. Days passed, and they had less and less money. So on March 19th, Wendy, very desperate, went to a homeless shelter and from their called home. She said she was very sorry that she missed her bed, her home,

her loved ones, and told her parents that they had no money left. She asked them to please send some so they could afford transport back home. Upon hearing these words, her parents acted immediately. They went straight to Western Union and sent them $200. With that money, the couple would have more than enough to buy food and bus or train tickets. They didn't need to talk to strangers, hitchhike, or anything like that, it was more than enough to return home safely. But the days passed, and the couple still didn't come back. On March 21st, Jesse called his parents and said that, in fact, they were already on their way. But after he hung up, days went by and the couple never returned. No one rang the doorbell, no one

called. So everyone began to think that they had sent money so the couple could keep traveling. On March 23, 1997, the Marion County Police received a very grim alert. It seemed a young man's lifeless body had been found next to the railroad tracks. The body belonged to a boy around 20 years old. He was wearing a plaid shirt and blue jeans and had apparently died from a blunt force trauma to the head. At first glance, it looked like an accident. His body was lying right next to the train tracks, so he had probably gotten too close and been hit by the train. But there was evidence at the scene pointing to something entirely different. First, the body had been dragged across the grass.

There was a trail of flattened plants in front of him, and on that trail were a pair of broken glasses and a blood-stained baseball cap. Second, the angle of the blow. The blow came from behind, and had it been caused by a train, the entire head would have been destroyed. But that wasn't the case here. And third, next to the body was the presumed murder weapon, a metal bar used to connect train cars. And lastly, this wasn't a robbery. The boy still had a watch, a gold chain, and in his wallet there was some money and a receipt in the name of Wendy Vaughan, a receipt showing that this girl had gone to Western Union to collect $200. Upon seeing this last detail, police quickly linked the death to the disappearance of the couple.

Thanks to that, they discovered the victim was Jesse. But now the question was, if that body was Jesse's, where on earth was Wendy? To be continued. But now the question was the following, if that body was Jesse's, where the hell was Wendy? Days went by and there was no way to find Wendy Vaughan. They handed out posters with her picture in every state and simply waited for someone to decide to call. They asked for clues, sightings, they asked for any kind of information. And finally, the calls started coming in, but they came with false leads.

There were girls who claimed to be Wendy. There were people who said they had seen her at the movies, at a Marilyn Manson concert, walking along the beach. Many people said they had seen her, but every time the police showed up, it turned out to be lies. However, there were two sightings that brought this case to the front page. pages. The first sighting came from two homeless men. These men said they saw Jess and Wendy near Jacksonville, accompanied by someone named Bob. Bob was a train conductor and was also

missing a leg. So the police got to work and searched for this person everywhere. They went to Jacksonville, questioned neighbors and more homeless people, and finally found him. But after seven hours of interrogation, they couldn't get anything out of him. So in the end, they released him without charges. The second siting occurred on June 4, 1997. This sighting was perhaps the most impactful of all, since Wendy's parents were involved. At one point during the day, the phone started to ring, and when they picked it up, there was no one on the other end. Hours went by, and the phone rang again. But this time, there was no silence, there was a voice that said, it's me, Wendy. After that, the person hung up. At 8 p.m., the phone rang again, and this time the

alleged Wendy spoke for a little longer. She told her parents that she was at a service station located in Kankakee and that she was calling from a payphone, one without a number written on it. She said she missed them, loved them very much, and in a moment of confusion, she hung up quickly. The police sprang into action and assigned two units to the case. One unit went to Kankakee to search for all the phone booths that didn't have their number displayed. The second unit decided to trace the signal from the call. The first group, once in Kankakee, searched for the payphone without the number written on the front, and it must be said that they found it.

It was at a Philip 66 station located on Indiana Street. They also reviewed the footage from the security cameras and saw that, right after the call, a girl who looked a lot like Wendy walked in. Wendy's parents said it was either her or someone who looked exactly like her. Unfortunately, just as they were about to go public with this information, the second group ruined everything, because it turned out that the traced signal showed the call came from a mile away. Therefore, the girl in the footage and on the call wasn't Wendy,

but someone who was eager to play a cruel prank. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years, and no one ever called again with clues about Wendy Vaughan's whereabouts. The police were about to close the case. However, on December 17, 1998, a terrible event shocked the entire United States, pediatric neurologist Claudia Benton, 39 years old, was found dead inside her home, a home located very close to the Union Pacific Railroad tracks in Texas. The way this woman died was horrifying, she had been stabbed. and beaten multiple times with a blunt object until she died. Her car was found in San Antonio,

and inside were fingerprints of a man who months earlier had been convicted of robbery, Unheld Machirino Resendis. Upon discovering this, the authorities decided to search for him privately, not to publish his photo or say he was being pursued, because the last thing they wanted was for him to flee the country. Unfortunately, despite everything they tried, they were unable to find him. Then, on May 2nd of the following year, the man struck again, this time killing a married couple, Karen and Norman J. Cernick. This case had a lot in common with Claudia Bentons because not only were Rescindis's fingerprints

found in the house, but the couple also lived very close to the train tracks, specifically in Weimer, Texas. Once again, the police carried out the investigation privately, no photos, no names were published. And on June 4th, the subject struck again, this time killing two more people, Noemi Dominguez, 26 years old, and Josephine Convica, 73. Then on June 15th, he killed George Morber with a shotgun and beat Caroline Frederick to death with the same shotgun. All of these deaths were connected by one thing, the train tracks.

The train passed through every location where he had been killing. Resendez didn't have a specific victim type. He didn't target based on age or gender. He didn't follow any such pattern. He simply seemed to follow the train lines. And if the police had given him more time, he likely would have kept killing. So finally, to stop this, they published his full name on the FBI's ten most wanted list. His face appeared in every newspaper and on every TV station, and his name was mentioned on every radio.

So in the end, his own sister made a deal with the first. police and turned him in. In 1999, the former Attorney General of Texas, Jim Maddox, made a very important statement, one that might seem trivial but wasn't. I hope they don't start blaming him for every crime committed near railroad tracks. Rescendiz, traveling illegally by train, passed through Canada, the U.S., and Mexico. In fact, some of his trips were recorded. This man had been deported to Mexico at least four times. He claimed to have killed up to 50, 15 people using sticks, picks, rocks, and all sorts of blunt objects. And in cases where his victims were women, he sometimes assaulted them before killing them.

After murdering them, Resendez would stay in their homes, eat their food, rummage through their fridge, sleep in their beds, and if he got bored, he would go through their documents, read their papers, look at their photos, calendars, and agendas. If he found something valuable, he either sold it or gave it as a gift to his wife. wife or his mother. With all the charges against him, he was sentenced to death, and in the state of Texas, such sentences are carried out almost immediately. You're sentenced, and within months, you die. That's when the police from Marion County got to work. The MO of this man was very similar to what was found in the case of Jesse Owl. So they linked him to the crime, suspecting he

might know where Wendy was. The police decided to interrogate him, but unfortunately hit a wall, as Rescendez's lawyers forbade him from speaking to the police. So they had to get creative to extract the information. He's on Texas Death Row, and he'll probably never leave Death Row or file any appeals. We couldn't find Wendy or bring peace to the family any other way, said Agent L. King to the Chicago Tribune. Since they couldn't speak to him directly, the agent sent him a letter, and in that letter, asked if he had anything to do with Jesse's case.

Rescendas replied, yes. In a second letter, the agent asked how he killed him, and Resendez provided details that had never been published in newspapers, details that only the killer could know. He said that on the night of March 23, 1997, he met Jesse and Wendy in person. The couple talked to him while riding a train. They asked him if he knew of any kind of work they could do, work that didn't require identification, where they didn't have to state their age or where they were from, not even use their real names. That's when Resendez got the idea that they would make perfect victims. If he killed them, no one would look for them, they had no names, no home, no money. So he told them he was headed to an orange grove, a place where no one ever asked for ID. The couple, upon hearing this, agreed to travel with him. And on the 23rd, when the train made a brief stop in Ocala, Rescendas asked Jesse to step off for a smoke. And when the boy did, the killer took a metal bar and hit him in the head. Then he grabbed him by the feet and dragged him away from the tracks so the train wouldn't run him over. After that, Resendez got

back in the carriage and told Wendy that Jesse would be right back. But an hour later, the train stopped in Oxford, Florida, and Jesse still hadn't returned. At this point, Wendy would have been very upset, and to stop her from escaping, Resendez tied her hands and dragged her to a remote location. Once well hidden, he strangled her to death. Before leaving, he covered her body with a military jacket. In his letter, he told the agents that near the body there was a book that Wendy had with her, a book she apparently liked very much. He also said that in that area, there was a small White House. And sure enough, when the agents went to the place, was exactly as Resendez had described.

Unhell Maturino Resendez was executed by lethal injection on June 27, 2006. His final words were, I want to ask if it's in your heart to forgive me. You don't have to. I know I allowed the, to rule my life. I just ask your forgiveness and ask God to forgive me for letting that confuse me. I thank God for having patience with me. I had no right to cause you pain. You didn't deserve that.

I deserve what I'm getting. But now it's your turn, what do you think of the case? Do you believe Resendez was truly remorseful? The end. From that moment on, the last thing Jesse knew about her was through a Facebook post. A post in which Leah told everyone that she urgently needed a place to live because she was now homeless. Mack saw the post late at night and immediately called Leah, but she didn't answer. So he kept trying again and again.

He sent her messages on her phone, on Facebook, everywhere, but she still wouldn't reply. We begin. When Liyah disappeared, her family and friends were deeply worried. They did everything possible to move heaven and earth. She wasn't the kind of girl who would just vanish overnight without saying anything. She would have called someone, left a message, said something. But the police checked her profile and said everything, pointed to the fact that she had packed up and left voluntarily.

So, temporarily, they suspended the search efforts. They did the right thing by stopping the search. Let's continue. Leah Charles Porter was born on December 28, 1994, in Cotapaxi, Colorado, one of two children raised by a woman named Renee Jackson. Very little is known about Leah's childhood due to a lack of reliable sources. However, we can imagine the context. Cota Paxi, the town where she was born, is a tiny speck on the map.

It has just 47 inhabitants, one restaurant, and one gas station. So you can already imagine how eager Lya was to get out of there. She was restless, adventurous, passionate, and had a great relationship with her older brother. In fact, they were so close that they considered each other best friends. They had the same group of friends, went out together, told each other everything, a nearly perfect sibling relationship. However, while Max was a very good student, Leah was the opposite. She studied just enough to pass and preferred to spend her time with friends.

Her main interest was her social life. Leah had a personality that drew attention. She was charismatic, affectionate, and very friendly. She was also extremely trusting. She'd grow fond of you in minutes and consider you a close friend almost instantly. And while this might sound positive, it brought her a lot of problems. Because, in reality, you can't trust just anyone. If a stranger offered her a ride, she'd accept.

If someone asked her for money and she had it, she'd give it. So we could say Leah was far too innocent. Everything mentioned above can be seen in her Facebook page, where she captured every moment of her life and shared it. If you wanted to know something about Leah, Facebook told you. She uploaded new selfies daily, checked into every location she visited, posted about the movies she watched, the food she ate, absolutely everything. However, this apparent happiness began to fade in 2013. As mentioned earlier, Cotapaxi was a very small town. So the family moved to Florence for better opportunities. In 2013,

At age 18, Leah graduated from high school and decided it was time for a fresh start. She wanted to leave home, start over, make new friends. So she chose to study massage therapy at Trinidad State Junior College. The college was two hours away from her mother's home, but Leah said she was ready. Her mother not only paid for her studies but also for housing. Unfortunately, what Renee Jackson didn't know was that her daughter would soon change her mind. Not long after starting classes, Leah met the man she thought would be the love of her life. When she spoke about him, it was unbelievable.

He was a 38-year-old tattoo artist named Jesse Morel. At first glance, he didn't give a good impression, he was everything a parent would fear for their daughter. And worse, right after meeting Leah, he lied about his age and last name. Mara Dixon, Leah Porter's best friend, said Jesse Morell first told Leah. he was 25 and that his last name was mine. When Liyah later found out the truth, she didn't care about the little lies. And in December 2013, just two weeks into their relationship, she called her mother and

told her to stop paying for housing. She was moving in with Jesse. Naturally, Reney opposed it. She didn't know the man, but from what little she did know, she didn't like him one bit. But Liaa was convinced, and nothing and no one could change. change her mind. So she packed her bags and moved into Jesse's house. In the middle of the move, she received heartbreaking news. Her brother Max was moving to California to start a business. That's when everything fell apart for her. Max was her rock. Even though they still spoke on the

phone, they wouldn't see each other as often. That shattered her. Little by little, she fell into depression. In early 2014, she stopped going to classes. First she skipped a few hours, then a few days, and eventually dropped out completely. Her relationship with Jesse kept getting worse. They argued constantly, yelled, insulted, disrespected each other. Her friends begged her to leave him, to pack her things and go back to her mother's house. But instead of feeling supported, Liyah felt misunderstood. She believed no one got her. She felt lonely, anxious, and in the middle of that chaos, Jesse introduced her to heroin. He had been using for many years and claimed it made him feel better when he was down. Lia initially said no. But eventually,

she gave in. She tried it once, then again, and again. Slowly, she became addicted. Lia had never used drugs before. She had never even been interested. Jesse introduced her to that dark world. He was not a good person, and certainly not a good influence on Liao. Mara Nixon, Leah's best friend, remembers the night Lya confided in her. They were in the car on their way to a concert when Lya confessed her biggest problem, the drugs. She said she couldn't stop and wanted to quit, but couldn't do it alone. So Mara offered her help. She went with her to narcotics anonymous meetings, supported her, took walks with her. And after a while, she felt Liyah was ready to go on her own.

But unfortunately, on June 3, 2014, after staying clean for two weeks, Liyah received devastating news, Jesse was leaving her. Apparently, he had packed his bags to go stay with family in Maryland for rehab. And in that plan, there was no room for Lya. He asked her to move out and get her life together. But he promised that once they were both clean, they'd get back together, and maybe even get married. Of course, this crushed Liyah. She felt insulted, betrayed, abandoned.

Jesse didn't even offer to let her stay until she found a place. He was just going to leave her behind. After a heated argument, Liyah grabbed her things and left. From that moment on, the last thing Jesse was. knew about her was that Facebook post, the one saying she was homeless and urgently needed a place to stay. Max saw the post late that night and immediately called Leah. But she didn't answer. He kept calling, messaging her on her phone, on Facebook, everywhere. But she never responded. So the next day, Max called Jesse Morel directly. Jesse told him he hadn't seen

Leah since the previous day. And that's where the real case begins. From that moment on, the last thing Jesse knew about her was through a Facebook post. A post in which Leah told everyone that she urgently needed a place to live because she was now homeless. Mack saw the post late at night and immediately called Leah, but she didn't answer. So he kept trying again and again. He sent her messages on her phone, on Facebook, everywhere, but she still wouldn't reply. We begin. When Liyah disappeared, her family and friends were deeply worried.

They did everything possible to move heaven and earth. She wasn't the kind of girl who would just vanish overnight without saying anything. She would have called someone, left a message, said something. But the police checked her profile and said everything pointed to the fact that she had packed up and left voluntarily. So, temporarily, they suspended the search efforts. They did the right thing by stopping the search. Let's continue. Leah Charles Porter was born on December 28, 1994, in Cota Paxi, Colorado, one of two children

raised by a woman named Renee Jackson. Very little is known about Leah's childhood due to a lack of reliable sources. However, we can imagine the context. Cota Paxi, the town where she was born, is a tiny speck on the map. It has just 47 inhabitants, one restaurant, and one gas station. So you can already imagine how eager Liyah was to get out of there. She was restless, adventurous, passionate, and had a great relationship with her older brother. In fact, they were so close that they considered each other best friends.

They had the same group of friends, went out together, told each other everything, a nearly perfect sibling relationship. However, while Max was a very good student, Liyah was the opposite. She studied just enough to pass and preferred to spend her time with friends. Her main interest was her social life. Lia had a personality that drew attention. She was charismatic, affectionate, and very friendly. She was also extremely trusting. She'd grow fond of you in minutes and consider you a close friend almost instantly.

And while this might sound positive, it brought her a lot of problems. Because, in reality, you can't trust just anyone. If a stranger offered her a ride, she'd accept. If someone asked her for money and she had it, she'd give it. So we could say Leah was far too innocent. Everything mentioned above can be seen in her Facebook page, where she captured every moment of her life and shared it.

If you wanted to know something about Leah, Facebook told you. She uploaded new selfies daily, checked into every location she visited, posted about the movies she watched, the food she ate, absolutely everything. However, this apparent happiness began to fade in 2013. As mentioned earlier, Cotapaxi was a very small town. So the family moved to Florence for better opportunities. In 2013, at age 18, Liyah graduated from high school and decided it was time for a fresh start. She wanted to leave home, start over, make new friends. So she chose to study massage therapy at Trinidad State Junior College.

The college was two hours away from her mother's home, but Leah said she was ready. Her mother not only paid for her studies but also for housing. Unfortunately, what Renee Jackson didn't know was that her daughter would soon change her mind. Not long after starting classes, Leah met the man she thought would be the love of her life. When she spoke about him, it was unbelievable. He was a 38-year-old tattoo artist named Jesse Morel. At first glance, he didn't give a good impression. He was everything a parent would fear for their daughter.

And worse, right after meeting Leah, he lied about his age and last name. Mara Dixon, Leah Porter's best friend, said Jesse Morel first told Leah he was 25 and that his last name was mine. When Leah later found out the truth, she didn't care about the little lies. And in December 2013, just two weeks into their relationship, she called her mother and told her to stop paying for housing. She was moving in with Jessie. Naturally, Renee opposed it.

She didn't know the man, but from what little she did know, she didn't like him one bit. But Leah was convinced, and nothing and no one could change her mind. So she packed her bags and moved into Jessie's house. In the middle of the move, she received heartbreaking news. Her brother Max was moving to California to start a business. That's when everything fell apart for her. Max was her rock. Even though they still spoke on the phone, they wouldn't see each other as often.

That shattered her. Little by little, she fell into depression. In early 2014, she stopped going to classes. First she skipped a few hours, then a few days, and eventually dropped out completely. Her relationship with Jesse kept getting worse. They argued constantly, yelled, insulted, disrespected each other. Her friends begged her to leave him, to pack her things and go back to her mother's house. But instead of feeling supported, Leah felt misunderstood.

She believed no one got her. She felt lonely, anxious, and in the middle of that chaos, Jesse introduced her to heroin. He had been using for many years and claimed it made him feel better when he was down. Liyah initially said no. But eventually, she gave in. She tried it once, then again, and again. Slowly, she became addicted. Lia had never used drugs before. She had never even been interested. Jesse introduced her to that dark world. He was not a good person, and certainly not a good influence on Liao. Mara Nixon, Leah's best friend, remembers the night Liyah confided in her.

They were in the car on their way to a concert when Liyah confessed her biggest problem, the drugs. She said she couldn't stop and wanted to quit, but couldn't do it alone. So Mara offered her help. She went with her to narcotics anonymous meetings, supported her, took walks with her. And after a while, she felt Lia was ready to go on her. own. But unfortunately, on June 3, 2014, after staying clean for two weeks, Leia received devastating news, Jesse was leaving her. Apparently, he had packed his bags to go stay with family in Maryland for rehab. And in that plan, there was no room for Lea. He asked her to move out and get her life

together. But he promised that once they were both clean, they'd get back together, and maybe even get married. Of course, this crushed Liyah. She felt insulted, betrayed, abandoned. Jesse didn't even offer to let her stay until she found a place. He was just going to leave her behind. After a heated argument, Liyah grabbed her things and left. From that moment on, the last thing Jesse knew about her was that Facebook post, the one saying she was homeless and urgently needed a place to stay. Max saw the post late that night and immediately called Liao. But she didn't answer. He kept calling, messaging her on her phone, on Facebook, everywhere.

But she never responded. So the next day, Max called Jesse Morel directly. Jesse told him he hadn't seen Liyah since the previous day. And that's where the real case begins. Obviously, the main suspect was Jesse Morel. However, after a 90-minute interrogation, the police ruled him out. From the start, he was very cooperative, didn't appear to be hiding anything, and was completely honest. First, he admitted that on June 3rd, he and Leah had an argument.

After she left, they exchanged messages, and in one of them, Lea told Jesse that she would be staying at a friend's house that night. Jesse wanted to know which friend, but he knew she wouldn't answer, so he didn't push it. After that, they stopped talking. Jesse admitted he wanted to text her again, but he understood if she didn't want to talk. So he gave her space. The next morning, he texted her again, but she still didn't reply. So he assumed she was still angry. That's when Max called to ask if he knew anything about Lya.

And that's when all the alarm bells went off. Lia and Max talked every single day. If he hadn't heard from her, something was seriously wrong. Having told them everything, the police let Jesse go. They didn't consider him a suspect anymore. But Leah's family didn't accept this. That man had lied about his name, his age, his last name. He had been a terrible influence.

So how could he not have something to do with her disappearance? But the police did nothing. They claimed Leah was at a friend's house, and would eventually return. Leah's family couldn't believe what was happening. So they began their own investigation. Leah's family couldn't believe what was happening. So they began their own investigation.

Max Porter questioned friends, family, and anyone who had ever known Mia. Meanwhile, Renee Jackson, Leah's mother, contacted the phone company to request her daughter's call records. Their reasoning was simple, if Leah had gone to a friend's house, that friend's number would appear in the records. And it did. Among all the numbers Leah had contacted in the past month, one in particular showed up multiple times, especially on June 3rd. Renee dialed the number and spoke directly with the owner, his name was Christopher W. Apparently, in the last month, Leah and Christopher had grown very close. This was strange, considering they had known each other since high school but had never really

spoken before. Leah had been the popular girl, and Christopher the outcast. Yet, according to him, in the past month they became friends because Leah had asked him for help quitting drugs. Christopher told Renee that on June 3rd, he responded to Leah's Facebook post and she came to his house to spend the night. But later that night, she supposed to be. received a phone call and ran out the door.

Renee was speechless. She had no idea her daughter was addicted to heroin. Max didn't know either. But at that point, the only thing that mattered was finding her alive. So they informed the police. Several officers went to question Christopher Wade. But instead of helping, the situation only got worse. Christopher's story was airtight.

He said he was a former military. military member, practiced Jiu-Jitsu, and came across as a totally normal guy. So the police dropped the case. To them, Liyah was no longer the innocent girl her family had described. She used drugs, had dropped out of school, dated a problematic man, and now was spending the night at another guy's house. To them, she was just another runaway. So they suspended the search again, for seven whole days. During that time, while the police did not. nothing, Leah's friends and family gave it their all. They spread her image online, put up posters, and spoke to the media. One of the most visible people on TV was none other than

Christopher Wade. He appeared on camera looking distraught. But something about his behavior raised red flags with the police. So they asked for permission to search his home. They expected to find a military-like environment, neatly made beds, everything spotless, in alphabetical order. But what they actually found was a mess. Rotten food sat on the kitchen counter, dirty clothes were piled in every corner, and empty bottles littered the floor. This didn't look like a former soldier's home at all. But the most shocking details were two things. First, Christopher's bed, a bare mattress on the floor with no sheets or pillowcases. Second, a knife in the corner of the room. Its handle was wrapped in electrical tape, and the blade was staked. And the blade was

stained with bleach. When asked why it was there, Christopher said he had cut himself with it days earlier and simply forgot to put it away. From that moment on, Christopher Wade became a person of interest. Homicide investigator Mike Lynch brought him in for a second interrogation. And this time, they found many contradictions. When asked if he and Leah had a romantic relationship, Wade initially denied it. But after some pressure, he confessed they had sex that night. He claimed Leah made the first move, and afterward, she received a call and left. But now, things weren't adding up. The police asked why he had removed the bed sheets. At first, he said he didn't know. Then he claimed he washed them. Finally, he admitted he had thrown them in a trash

after Renee Jackson called asking about her daughter. He said he panicked. If Leah had disappeared, investigators might find her DNA on the sheets and assume he had done something wrong. And if that sounds suspicious, wait until you hear what he said next, I maintain my innocence. But I would like to request an attorney, to verify his alibi, the police spoke to his roommate, Jesse Williams. The two had met in the military and had been good friends ever since. But their friendship was about to end. Jesse had information that would make Christopher look very bad. He told the police that on the night of June 3rd, he came home and noticed Christopher's bedroom door was closed. He heard two voices inside, Christophers and a woman's.

Not wanting to disturb them, he went to his room. But around 3 a.m., Christopher left the apartment and returned a short while later. When Jesse asked where he had gone, Christopher said he had taken out the trash. And after that night, there was no sign of Liao. Based on that testimony, the police searched Christopher's home again, this time using specialized equipment to detect blood. And they found it. A lot of it. Particularly in the bathroom. The sink and bathtub were covered in blood. In one corner of the floor, they found a bloodstained t-shirt, so obvious that they didn't even need a blacklight to see it. Next to the shirt was a receipt from a 7-Eleven dated June 4th. It showed a print.

purchase made by Christopher Wade, latex gloves. The evidence was clear. Wade had done something till ya. But without a body, there was no crime. So the police let him go, and kept him under surveillance. Max Porter couldn't believe it. There was blood, a bloody knife, a suspicious t-shirt, and Christopher was still walking free. So Max decided to catch him himself. And the way he did it was brilliant. And the way he did it was brilliant. By pretending to be Christopher's friend, Max began messaging him through social media. He told Christopher that he believed in him, that he knew he was innocent, and that he supported him no matter what. Christopher Wade was into tarot reading. So Max used that to his advantage. One day, he told him he needed a reading

and set up a meeting in the park with him and a friend named Eric. Once there, Max, Max, turned on a voice recorder and started asking questions. What do you know about Leah? Where is she? What happened that night? He pushed hard. Eventually, Christopher Wade confessed everything. He said that night, he and Liyah had sex. Then, she asked him for money. He refused. She got angry and allegedly grabbed a knife and tried to stab him. In response, he wrestled her to the ground and tried to choke her unconscious, but he squeezed too tightly and accidentally killed her. After realizing what had happened, he panicked. He wrapped her body in the bed sheets and threw it in the trash, along with all of her belongings.

From there, the entire case blew wide open. Max tackled Christopher to the ground and hit him. Then he called 911 and told them everything. When the police arrived, Max called his mother and told her what had happened. Renee, completely hysterical, also called 911 and repeated the same story. The police searched the landfill, and after several weeks, they found Leah Porter's belongings, her wallet, her clothes, her shoes. And among those items, they also found men's underwear that did not belong to Christopher Wade. The police didn't give this detail much weight, they were focused on finding Leah's body. But sadly, to this day, her body has never been found. And Christopher Wade still refuses to say where it is.

Still, he says he confessed to killing her because the tarot cards told him to do it. He claimed that after the reading, he planned to take his own life, but the spirit of Leah stopped him. His lawyers were expected to argue an insanity defense. But if that was the plan, it didn't work. Because even without a body, Christopher Wade was sentenced to 48 years in prison. He won't be eligible for parole until he serves at least three-quarters of his sentence. But now it's your turn, what do you think about the case? Do you believe Wade acted alone? The end.

This division, as expected, only pleased Maria del Pilar, but although this was positive for her, the misfortunes had only just begun. At one point, her children turned their backs on her, and no one knows the reason why, one day, they simply stopped speaking to her. And when her son got married, he didn't even invite her. That's when the woman couldn't take it anymore. We begin around 8 in the morning on November 4, 2008. Diego Smith Hevel, a 25-year-old engineer, headed as usual to his girlfriend Bolin Molina's house, located at number 97, on Seminario Street in Providencia. Every morning, he made the same trip, he would go to Boland's house, take her to work, and then go to his own job.

That day was supposed to be exactly like every other. Bolin said goodbye to her father and went outside, so Diego went inside to take a shower. But just then, he started hearing a lot of screaming, and then two gunshots. Apparently, a man had just attacked Diego at the front door of the house. So Diego rushed out into the street and wrote down the license place. number of the attacker's car. They initially thought it had been a simple robbery gone wrong, a robbery with serious injuries, but it ended up being a murder. Hours later, Diego died from blood loss in a hospital. We could say the case was an isolated incident, but this family had

already suffered two other losses in recent months, two losses supposedly from other failed robberies. Were the three deaths connected? We'll find out shortly. This story begins with the of a woman named Maria del Pilar Perez-Lopez on December 21, 1952, in Chile. She was the oldest of three daughters born to Jose Perez-Perez and Aurelia Lopez, who were the owners of a very successful bakery chain and a real estate agency. These businesses generated large profits and allowed the three daughters, Maria del Pilar, Magdalena, and Gloria, to pursue higher education. Maria del Pilar studied architecture and practiced her profession. According to several witnesses, she was very different from her sisters.

She was someone who always had to get her way, methodical, calculating, and with a strong character that made living with her difficult. But her father found this fascinating, if she set her mind to something, she had to see it through no matter what. This made her the perfect candidate to take over the business. She had the kind of character that could take the company to another level. According to the family, she always defended her father fiercely. Her mother and grandmother were very authoritarian and often discredited Jose in front of the employees,

and Maria del Pilar couldn't stand it. She would confront them, look for arguments, and always tried to outshine them. She was the only one of the three daughters who dared to do that. In 1978, Maria del Pilar married architect Francisco Zamorano, and they had two children, one Jose and Roscio. That marked a new stage in her life, as her main obsession became her children. She always had problems with her mother and sisters. They claimed she didn't really want to help the family business, she only wanted the profits.

She would take money for the children, for their clothes, candy, and school, which led to family arguments. They said if she wanted money, she had to earn it. Things escalated when in the early 1980s, Gloria married Augusta Molina, a man who quickly became very involved in the family business and even helped improve it. From then on, Gloria and her husband were considered better than Maria del Pilar and became the leaders in arguments against her. In 1985, Maria del Pillar and her father created a real estate agency and began spending more time together, time that, according to the family, she used to ask the poor man for money. That's when the real problems began. In 1995, Maria Del Pilar and her husband divorced. Francisco Zamorano, who had been her husband

for 21 years, confessed he was homosexual, and not only that, he was in love with a man named Ector Aravalo. That completely shattered Maria del Pilar's plan. She didn't accept her grandmother's treatment and confronted her, something Jose never dared to do. She acted like his voice, helping him express disagreement. He once commented that he favored Pilar because she was like the son he never had, and he had also placed hopes in her husband Francisco, thinking he would take over the bakery business along with Pilar. He was frustrated when he found out Francisco was gay and that his daughter left him.

Her whole life was in chaos. Her sister and brother-in-law were better regarded than her, and her father no longer looked at her the same way after learning about Francisco. For the first time in her life, Maria del Pilar didn't know what to do. Things worsened when her father was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. The family made sure he received treatment, and then he was brought home with a nurse. That's when, supposedly, Maria del Pilar was banned from seeing her father, as the family was convinced she would take advantage of the old man. She accused them of practically kidnapping him, said they had him committed to a psychiatric clinic without consulting her, and later moved him to an apartment in Gloria's house.

She claimed he was kept in poor conditions, isolated, and had to eat alone in his room while the rest of the family ate in the dining room. Psychiatrist Dr. Dresner handled the case. Things got more complicated until, in 1999, her beloved father, Jose Perez Perez, passed away at the age of 85. At this point, everyone thought his inheritance would go to his widow, but when the will was read, they found a surprise no one liked. He had left as much as legally possible to his eldest daughter, Maria del Pilar, and reduced the shares for his other daughters and wife to the legal minimum, 60% to Maria del Pilar, 20% to his wife, Orrelia

Lopez, 10% to Magdalena, and 10% to Gloria. This division, as expected, only please pleased Maria del Pilar, but although this was positive for her, the misfortunes had only just begun. At one point, her children turned their backs on her, and no one knows why, they just stopped talking to her. When her son got married, he didn't even invite her. That's when she couldn't take it anymore. On April 23, 2008, the bodies of Francisco Zamorano and his partner Ector Aravallo were found inside their home. According to the autopsy, they had died three days earlier, both with a gunshot to the back of the head. The door showed no signs of forced entry, and there was no evidence of a robbery, so for the police, it was clearly an execution.

But who could have done it? The first suspect was the couple's landlord. Apparently, Ector Arivalo and Francisco Zamorano were renting an apartment owned by Francisco's second cousin. While they lived on the second floor, the landlord lived on the first. So, the police asked him if he had heard the gunshots on the day of the murders, but he said no, that he hadn't heard anything at all. But how could someone living wall-to-wall not hear two gunshots? How could he not notice anything? From this point on, the police established several points.

First, as the landlord, he had spare keys to the apartment and could have entered and exited without forcing the lock. Additionally, as a relative, the couple would have opened the door without suspecting anything. Second, this man was a member of an official shooting club, so he had knowledge of firearms, he had training in good aim. Third, in his home, they found a weapon with a caliber very similar to the one used to kill Francisco Zamorano and Hector Aravalo. Lastly, among Francisco Zamorano's belongings, there was a note complaining that their landlord

was pressuring them to pay the rent. There was motive, and a supposed weapon. So, this man was pressured to confess, and he eventually did. But later, he retracted everything. He said the couple had been living in his apartment because they didn't have money to rent elsewhere, and since they were family, he charged them very little. They had gone two months without paying,

but he never pressured them, he understood their situation. To top it off, ballistic tests showed the weapon in his possession did not match the one used in the murders. Furthermore, he had no gunpowder residue linking him to the deaths of Francisco Zamorano and Ector Aravallo. Time passed, and the case remained unsolved, until the family was hit by another tragedy, the death of Diego Smith Hevel, boyfriend of the daughter of Augusta Molina and Gloria Perez. The young man was attacked in the building entrance of the family's home. Fortunately, Augustine managed to write down the attacker's license plate number, and thanks to that, one of the most atrocious and twisted crimes in

history was uncovered. When they traced the plate, the police discovered that the car belonged to a man who had been in prison for six months. So, they asked him who had access to the car while he was incarcerated. The man responded that he had given the car to his dear brother. The police went to the brother and asked him what he had done with the vehicle. He said he had sold it to a nightclub owner named Jose Ruz. Jose Ruz was quickly arrested and charged with murder. But when they searched his house, they found something very strange, floor plans. Very detailed blueprints of Augustin Molina and Gloria Perez's home.

Each room was labeled with the name of the person who slept there, and every place where valuables were kept was marked. The handwriting was so neat and the lines so precise that it was impossible to believe they had been drawn by Jose Rus, who had only finished secondary education. Furthermore, he had never entered that house, so how could he know it in such detail? The plans had clearly been drawn by someone who knew the family and had basic knowledge of architecture. That someone could easily have been Maria del Pilar, who, let's not forget, was an architect. The police asked Jose Ruz if he knew the woman. He said no, that the plans were his, the handwriting was his, and that the

the murder of Diego Smith Hevel had been a robbery gone wrong, an attack he had planned and executed alone. But then the police found two phones among his belongings. One phone had contacts for his wife, friends, and family. The other, a prepaid phone, had only one contact, saved under the name Pili. The police had no doubt. Then, security camera footage on Francisco Zamorano and Ector Aravalo Street showed Jose Ruzza's car parked for. their three days before their bodies were discovered. Some time ago, he had hired Maria Del Pilar to renovate his nightclub. From there, they started talking. He had financial problems, and she had unfinished business. She offered him 10 million pesos for each family

member he killed. Maria del Pilar couldn't bear it. And the last victim was actually a mistake. Diego Smith Hevel wasn't supposed to die. The intended victims were her sisters, brothers-in-law, mother, and niece. If the mother died, the inheritance would go to the daughters, if the daughters died, it would go to the brothers-in-law, if they died, to the niece, and if she died, everything would go to Maria del Pilar. So, to her, everyone had to die. On November 7, 2008, Maria del Pilar was arrested at her home after attempting to take her own life by consuming a large number of barbiturates. After her stomach was pumped, the police subjected her to a handwriting test and noticed she was forcing her writing,

faking a handwriting that wasn't hers. So, they searched her house, found documents written by her, and confirmed that her handwriting matched the one found on the blueprint in Jose Ruzza's home. That's when the trial began. Nearly 100 people testified against Maria Del Pilar. Her sister Magdalena described her as confrontational, irrational, irrational, spoiled, and stubborn. She also said that from a young age, Maria del Pilar was very violent, and that when Gloria was pregnant, she tried to strangle her. Her daughter Roscio referred to her throughout the trial as, the lady, never calling her, mom, or mother. She wanted nothing to do with her. Her son and daughter-in-law explained why they didn't invite her to

their wedding, one day, after an argument, Maria del Pilar pushed her son's fiancé down the stairs and then hit her. On January 19, 2011, after four months of trial, the court declared Maria Del Pilar Perez guilty of hiring Jose Ruz to kill Francisco Zamorano and his partner Ector Aravallo. She was also found to have masterminded the robbery and murder of Diego Smith Hevel, and the attempted robbery and planned murder of her entire family. Both she and José Rus were sentenced to life imprisonment. But it's important to note that while he confessed and asked for forgiveness, she never did. She insisted she had nothing to do with the terrible acts, that she wasn't a troublemaker,

didn't seek conflict, and would never hurt anyone, especially not her family. Yet it's worth highlighting one final detail, since being in prison, five inmates have requested to be transferred out of her cell, citing serious problems living with the woman the press has nicknamed La Quintralla, in reference to a historical figure who was just as, if not more, cruel than Maria del Pilar Perez Lopez. But now it's your turn, what do you think about the case? Do you believe this woman really planned it all? The end. You know, maybe it's me taking the lazy way out, but I want to put religion aside and just want to think that it's more important about how you are as a person while you're here, which is going to matter more as to where you end up

when you go on the other side. Don't panic, okay. Don't panic, please, breathe deeply, and let's start. We begin on September 22, 2015. The Nevada police received a chilling call. A woman called 911 saying that a terrible crime had happened at her house. She shared the house with two people, a man and a woman. Upon entering, she found a dead man on the floor and the woman gone. The whole house was turned upside down, with furniture moved, pictures on the floor, broken objects. Seeing this, she called her missing roommate again and again, but her phone was off. The police quickly assumed that the woman who was not in the house had killed the man, that they had fought, and she had killed him and fled. So they quickly tracked her phone

and realized it was at her daughter's house, a daughter who had been reported by her weeks before for attempting to kidnap her. Sounds twisted, right? Well, next, you'll hear the full story. Deborah Angelo, better known as Day, was born on October 17, 1962, in New Jersey, United States, specifically in a broken family. Her father was an alcoholic and very violent, and her mother was so scared that she couldn't escape.

So, little Deborah grew up in a very unhealthy environment. fights, screams, and beatings were constant in her life. But the most interesting part of all this is that at some point, her parents, who had very little money, ended up living in a small house next to a cemetery. For many people, this idea made their hair stand on end. Waking up every morning, opening the windows, and seeing all the graves is not everyone's idea of a pleasant start to the day. But the Angeli family had two options, live on the street,

or in that house, and they obviously chose the latter. When Deborah was five or six years old, she began experiencing paranormal events. Every night, when she would get into bed, her room would change completely. The temperature would drop drastically, and strange whispers would make their presence known. She would see shadows, strange misty shapes, and out of nowhere, she would start hearing voices. For a long time, she tried to tell her parents, but neither of them. them believed her. They thought she was trying to get attention, that she was crazy, that she was delusional. But as time passed, they started to realize that the girl wasn't lying.

Objects started falling, disappearing, and breaking on their own. Doors slammed shut, and strange shadows appeared in the hallways. Inevitably, they began to believe the little girl. At first, this gift terrified her, but at some point, she felt more comfortable with the dead than with the living. She inevitably began to deeply love the paranormal world. As she grew older, she enjoyed it more and more. She visited haunted cemeteries and abandoned buildings, doing everything she could to feel presences, to sense them, to see them, to hear them. She truly began to believe that there was something more after life. Unfortunately, parapsychology wasn't a job, so she had to look for work in various places. She worked in stores,

warehouses, and at the age of 22, she started working at a bar called Churchill's. One night, while working there, she met a man named Mark Anthony Constantino, and she instantly fell in love with him. Mark was born on January 30, 1962, and was one of eight children in a Catholic marriage. Unlike Debbie, he had a very happy childhood. He went to church on Sundays, prayed every day, got good grades, and according to his loved one, he was very generous and a very good person. He didn't drink or smoke. He was practically a perfect man.

So Debbie couldn't avoid falling in love with him, but being very religious, he didn't believe in ghosts, witches, apparitions, or EVP, electronic voice phenomena. He didn't believe in any of that. But Debbie opened the doors to a whole new world for him. She told him about monologny, raps, poltergeist levels, and Mark was fascinated. But what really caught his attention was the fact

that his new girlfriend was sensitive to these phenomena. So, together, they decided to investigate paranormal phenomena. When you entered their door, you could feel the love in the living room, and everything in that room said it all because two people met and fell in love, according to statements from Jan in 1989. Debbie and Mark got married and immediately moved to Northern Nevada. After that, in 1992, they brought their first daughter into the world, Raquel Constantino, better known as Rocky. For many years, parapsychology was their great hobby. They investigated haunted places and poltergeist phenomena, but unfortunately, it wasn't a paid

job, so they had to keep their old jobs. However, they combined their regular work with their investigations and giving conferences, conferences about ghosts, manifestations, demons, and especially their EVP phenomenon, popularly known as psychophony. For those who don't know, psychophony is a phenomenon of voice recordings that can be captured on recorders in the midst of silence, in the middle of a conversation, or even while trying to tune a radio. In fact, there's a device that constantly changes radio frequencies to capture electronic voice phenomena, and this is the spirit box. The spirit box was created in 2002 by Frank Samson, and it should be noted that it was not originally created

to capture ghosts, but rather the voices of aliens. Supposedly, Frank wanted to contact extraterrestrials, speak to them, send messages, and receive them. But the spirit box didn't work as he expected. It contacted people who knew things about him that no one else knew, his past, present, and best-kept secrets. So, he immediately assumed he had created a device to speak with the dead. Returning to the topic of EVP, like poltergeists, there are several levels, and depending on the source consulted, there are three or four levels. The first level is Class A voice phenomena. Class A phenomena are the most complicated to obtain. These are clear voices that speak directly, interact with each other, and in many cases, respond to you. The

second level is Class B phenomena. This phenomenon is somewhat more common, where there are voices, but you don't know what they are saying. You can't understand who they are speaking to, how many they are, or what their communication means. The third level is Class C, and this is one of the most common. Here, you capture sounds, but you don't know what they are. You know the sound is not normal, that it shouldn't be there, but you don't know if it's a message, if it has intent, or if there's any awareness behind it. And finally, we have the fourth phenomenon the Class D or Garbage Sound. This is so confusing that it is considered useless noise.

These sounds are so irrelevant that they can't be included in serious investigations, and many authors grouped them with Class C phenomena. Mark and Debbie were experts in this field. They were experts in the EVP phenomenon, capturing all types of psychophonies. They interacted with spirits, did truly impactful things, and fans of the paranormal world slowly fell in love with their work. To be continued. Many authors combine it with Class C phenomenon.

Mark and Debbie were experts in this, experts in the EVP phenomenon, capturing all types of psychophonies. They interacted with spirits and did truly impactful things, and fans of the paranormal world slowly fell in love with their work. Having a gift, Debbie had an advantage. Mark and she would enter a haunted place, and immediately, she could determine which areas were the most active. She would feel the temperature change, since the presences, see shadows, and when she pointed them out, Mark would turn on the equipment. The couple investigated everything you could imagine, haunted places, music boxes, mirrors, possessed dolls. At one point, they decided to show the world the truth about their work. In 2007, they decided to create their own blog, Spiritsby.com.

But don't think this blog was just for telling what they did with the spirit box, melms, and all of that. It was for doing live streams while they investigated. They wanted to prove to the world that parapsychology was real and that there were people who truly had a gift. Thanks to this, they became very, very well known. Their blog brought them fame and profits, and they soon left. their jobs to dedicate themselves fully to their great passion. They appeared on programs like Dead Famous, Paranormal State, and eventually became recurring characters on the show Ghost Adventures, or Ghost Seekers. In this last show, the couple appeared in many seasons. In fact, while working

on this show, they became great friends with the entire team, especially with Zach Bagan's and Nick Groff. They usually spend a couple of hours in a haunted place at night, connecting the equipment, and waiting for something to happen. But as ghost seekers, the challenge was to spend an entire night locked in a supposedly active place. This was exhausting and pushed you to your limit if that place was really haunted. They were the ones who worked with them. The Constantinos were the perfect couple.

Debbie was charismatic, extroverted, and Mark was the complete opposite, shy and withdrawn. But together, they had a lot of chemistry. Sure, they clashed sometimes, but that happens in every marriage, and they were so special that it was impossible not to like them. In 2012, Nick Groff released a single called What's Next, and the Constantino couple wanted to show their full support by sending the following message, upcoming album, and when you listen to it, it's really thought-provoking because we're all in this together. Yeah, we all have separate thoughts of what's next, and nobody knows exactly what's coming up. And I think I'm at the point where when I listen to it, when you hear different people's thoughts on what's next, you know, maybe it's me taking the lazy way out, but I want to put. Many of you may think that this video is nonsense and that they are just supporting him. But, months later, Mark's words would be remembered by thousands of fans.

In 2015, something would happen between them that would make the entire world shudder. On Tuesday, September 22, 2015, at 8 a.m., a woman called 9-1-1 to report a dead body. James Anderson, 55 years old, was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Apparently, someone broke into his house, shot him in the head, and left everything turned upside down. This woman claimed that it was impossible to get in touch with her other roommate, a woman named Debbie Constantino. The first calls she made went through, but by the last one, the voicemail was on. The officers quickly put two and two together, three people share the house, one is dead, one is missing, and the whole house shows clear signs of a struggle.

So, they assumed Debbie killed James and fled. With her phone traced, they went directly to the location where she was believed to be, the garden apartments, between 13th Street and OD Boulevard in Sparks. The apartment was rented under the name of her daughter, Raquel Constantino. The police immediately knocked on the door and asked Debbie to come out, but just before they were about to break the door down, they heard several gunshots. Then, they heard a man's voice saying the following, either you give me 15 minutes to collect my thoughts, or I will kill her.

That's when the police realized the case was much more complicated. The man's shouting was Mark Constantino, and now he was firing at the police through the windows. Debbie didn't kill James and flee, Mark Constantino had come to her house, killed James, and kidnapped her. The police had to act quickly to save Debbie Constantino's life. For several hours, the police did everything possible to talk with Mark, negotiate with him, but at 1.30, there were more gunshots. When the SWAT team entered the apartment, they found two dead bodies inside, Debbie and Mark Constantino. Mark had killed Debbie and then took his own life. The case was shrouded in secrecy for a long

time. They didn't say what happened, how Debbie died, how Mark died, nothing. So, the entire world began to speculate. People said Mark was possessed and led by the devil. Others said they killed Debbie because she was possessed, and Mark just wanted to liberate her. But these theories lost credibility when the couple's daughter published the following post on Facebook. I am the daughter of Mark and Debbie. None of you know my family or what we've been through. My father is in heaven watching over me and my sister. My mother is burning in hell where she belongs. I'm not going to respond to anyone on this post. This is when everyone started asking the basic questions. Why didn't Debbie live with Mark anymore? Why was she kidnapped? And why did Mark want to

kill her. That's when the press began to leak a lot of information, information nobody expected to receive. The New York Post reported that in July 2012, Debbie was arrested for hitting Mark Constantino. They said that at one point, Debbie argued with her daughter Raquel and tried to throw her out of the house. Raquel was uncontrollable, rebellious, and didn't follow the rules. So, Debbie decided to pack her things and kick her out of the house, but Mark intervened. lost his temper and hit her. In March 2015, Mark and Debbie fought again, this time over financial problems. Debbie was completely drunk, out of control, and in a fit of rage, grabbed a knife and attacked Mark. The couple screamed, through objects, hit each other, and the neighbors

heard everything. One of them grabbed the phone and called 911. When the police arrived, they asked Mark why he hadn't called, and he replied with the following words. I didn't call earlier because this is my wife's usual behavior. In August 2015, Debbie filed for divorce. They always fought, always screamed at each other. It wasn't healthy, so the best thing was to go separate ways. She packed up and moved to a shared house. However, on August 8th, she had to return to the family house to pick up some things.

She didn't want to go alone, fearing something would happen, that they would fight again. So, she asked her friend Die Sumer Myers to accompany her. They got in the car, drove for a while, parked in front of the house, and just before getting out, Mark and Raquel attacked them. Raquel opened the car door and started hitting Sumer, and Mark, as if he had been waiting, went straight for Debbie. He opened the door, pulled her out of the car, and dragged her inside the house. For an hour, absolute chaos reigned in the street, and at one point, Sumer grabbed her.

the phone and dialed 911. The legal documents state the following, Mark and Raquel broke Debbie Constantino's nose, and inside the house, Mark strangled Debbie until she lost consciousness. As a result, both of them faced the following charges. Raquel was accused of kidnapping, domestic battery, battery, and car theft, while Mark was accused of kidnapping, domestic battery, and domestic battery with strangulation. After this, Debbie Constantino lived in terror. error, so she asked the judge for a restraining order against Mark and Raquel, which was granted. The judge also jailed Mark, and Raquel was released on bail of $40,000 and $30,000, which, by the way, they both paid a few days later. When this information came to light, Debbie's friends

couldn't believe it, because just weeks later, Mark Constantino would end her life in a terrible way. Who is that lady? Listen. In March 2016, Raquel Constantino's trial ended. Her sentence was five and a half months in jail, but since it was such a short time, it was suspended. So, she was sent for five months of anger management treatment. But now it's your turn. What do you think of the case? Do you think this crime could have been prevented? The end. The case we're diving into today takes us back to the city of Perth, in central Scotland. Specifically, we need to rewind all the way to to 1866. At that time, in a secluded area south of Perth, stood Stewart Hill Farm. The

farm's location was off the beaten path, disconnected from the main roads, a feature that suited its owner, William Henderson, just fine. William Henderson was the second son of Janet and Andrew Henderson. After his mother passed away in 1843, it was just him and his father managing the farm. They raised cows, pigs, and horses and worked the fields. They weren't wealthy, but they also weren't destitute, they got by. Despite the hardships, the family was content. But as the years passed, tragedy struck again. Six years after his mother's death, William's father also passed away, leaving William alone to manage the farm. To help him through this difficult period, his sister, Janet Rogers, temporarily moved in with her five children. Together, they helped

keep the farm running, and when things stabilized, Janet and her kids returned to their own lives. Fast forward to 1865, and life threw another curveball at William. That year, Scotland was hit by an outbreak of cattle plague. The disease devastated livestock across the country, and Stewart Hill Farm wasn't spared. The cows got sick, sales plummeted, and things seemed to grind to a halt. But William wasn't the type to back down. He fought to keep things afloat and, by October, realized he couldn't do it all alone. That's when he hired a man named James Keegan, a 44-year-old labor with decent references.

William offered James a six-month contract that included a weekly wage, as well as a cabin on the property for James, his wife, and their children to live in rent-free. On paper, it was a win-win situation for both men. James eagerly accepted, and the arrangement began. However, it didn't take long for the partnership to sour. William and James had strong, clashing personalities, and their working relationship quickly turned into a nightmare. They argued constantly, bickered over small details, and their disdain for each other grew with each passing day. Things took a turn for the worse in January

1867, when the farm was robbed in broad daylight. William had gone into town to buy supplies, wood and other materials. When he returned, he was greeted by chaos. One of the windows was shattered, glass was everywhere, and the entire house was in disarray. The most shocking discovery, however, was in his bedroom. A small box where he kept some money had been smashed open. Inside had been three pounds, all of which were now gone. Strangely, the thief had also taken a pair of trousers and a shirt but left everything else untouched. The robbery was bizarre and didn't make much sense. But in William's mind, there was one clear suspect, James.

The two men accused each other, shouting and arguing, but William had no proof. While tensions ran high after the incident, the animosity between them didn't end there, it only escalated. Adding fuel to the fire was Christina Miller, the housekeeper at the farm. According to William, Christina was opinionated, blunt, and loved to gossip. She also seemed to have a peculiar fascination with William's personal life. In 1860s, Scotland, it was unusual for a man William's age to remain unmarried and childless. People whispered about it, but Christina took it a step further. She constantly pressed William with uncomfortable questions, why aren't you married?

Why don't you have children? Why are you always alone? Eventually, Christina's behavior crossed a line. She began to flirt with William, making advances that he found deeply uncomfortable. One day, he had to firmly tell her to stop. Christina didn't take the rejection well. From that moment on, she seemed determined to make his life miserable. She restricted his access to his own kitchen and, in a move that scandalized,

William, openly flirted with James, who, it's worth noting, was a married man with children. Over time, James seemed to reciprocate Christina's attention. Their budding relationship created even more tension on the farm, as James now accused William of harassing Christina whenever the two clashed. William wanted to fire both of them, but his hands were tied. He couldn't run the farm on his own, and hiring new workers from scratch seemed like an impossible task. Reluctantly, he decided to endure the situation, hoping things would improve. prove. But in March of 1867, the situation reached a breaking point. One night, William went to bed early after locking all the doors. In the middle of the night, he was jolted

awake by loud banging on the kitchen door. The noise was deafening, as if someone was trying to break it down. Terrified, William stayed in bed, frozen with fear, thinking it might be another robbery. By morning, he discovered the truth, it wasn't a thief but Christina. The previous evening, Christina had gone into town, stopped by a tavern, and on her way back to the farm, met a young man she fancied. She invited him to the farm, intending for him to spend the night with her. However, when they arrived, they found the doors locked. After failing to break in, Christina and her companion ended up sleeping in the barn.

The incident was the last straw for William. In the morning, he fired Christina. But rather than leaving the property entirely, Christina moved into James' cabin. Although she no longer lived in the main house, her continued presence on the farm infuriated William. His authority had been blatantly disregarded, and he felt his privacy was being violated. Tensions on the farm were at an all-time high. Recognizing the strain her brother was under, Janet decided to step in. She assured William that she would handle the situation and help get the farm back on track. On Wednesday, March 28, 1867, Janet arrived at Stewart Hill Farm. What she found

shocked her. Christina hadn't done any housework in a week, and the place was in complete disarray. The house was filthy and chaotic, as if it hadn't been maintained in years. Despite being exhausted from her journey, Janet immediately got to work. She cleaned, organized, and cooked while William and James worked in the fields. For two days, things seemed to settle into a routine. But then came Friday, March 30th, a day that would change everything. That morning, Janet and William had breakfast together and discussed their plans for the day. Janet said she would continue doing chores in the morning and then visit an uncle in town in the afternoon.

William, on the other hand, had a busy day ahead. He needed to go into town to buy a pig, pick up some supplies, and meet a friend. He told Janet he wouldn't be back until 7 p.m. Before leaving, William also spoke to James, instructing him to complete a few tasks, remove some posts and plow a field. After that, James would be free for the day. With their plan set, the two men shook hands and went their separate ways. William spent the day running errands, visiting the market, purchasing fertilizer, and stopping by a bar.

Around 5 p.m., he passed through Bridge of Earn to buy some wood for roof repairs. He finally returned home around 7 p.m. and asked James to help unload the cart while he tended to the horse. Once their tasks were done, the two men parted ways. When William approached the house, he noticed something strange, all the doors were locked. Peering through the windows, he saw that the interior was completely dark. Confused, he went back to James's cabin to ask if he had seen Janet. James's response left William stunned. James claimed that the last time he saw Janet was around 11 a.m., when she was standing by the kitchen door speaking with a man.

William didn't think much of it at first and decided to investigate. a ladder, he climbed up to Janet's bedroom window and entered the house. The room was tidy, and Janet's bed was untouched. From there, he made his way downstairs, checking each room. When he reached the kitchen, he noticed the door was locked, and the key was missing. He searched nearby drawers for the key but found nothing. Growing increasingly uneasy, William entered the servant's quarters next to the kitchen. The room was in complete disarray, with the mattress moved and clothes strewn everywhere.

In the middle of the room, he spotted something strange, a large, misshapen lump on the floor. As he got closer, the horrifying reality hit him, the lifeless body of his sister lay on the floor, surrounded by blood. The room was soaked with it, every corner stained. In shock and despair, William ran out of the house, across the fields, and straight to his neighbor Jamie Ballas' house. Breathless and frantic, he begged for help. Jamie and his wife grabbed lanterns and followed him back to the house.

What they found was even worse than William had described. Janet's body was mutilated, and next to the fireplace lay a bloodied axe. They immediately informed James of the tragedy. While William ran to notify the police, James left the farm and headed to the nearby town of Forgandini. The question on everyone's mind was the same, where was James going, and why? James and William were two men whose fates became entangled in one of the most bizarre and unsolvable cases anyone had ever heard of.

At first glance, they seemed like any ordinary people, but the story that unfolded between them was far from ordinary. Now, you might be wondering, what exactly were these two up to? Where was James heading that fateful day? And why was William acting so erratically? Let's start with James. That day, James was on his way to the police station. His mission.

To report William for murder. Yes, you read that right, murder. But, plot twist, William had the exact same plan. He was heading to the station to accuse James of the same crime. Imagine the scene, James, calm as a monk, walks into the station, his face a picture of serenity. He tells the police that William is nothing short of a monster. He calls him cruel, heartless, and, of course, a murderer.

William, on the other hand, is the polar opposite. He's frantic, sweating bullets, pacing around like a madman. His first stop isn't even the police station, it's the doctor's house. But when he gets there, the doctor's wife informs him that her husband is in Edinburgh and will be back shortly. She kindly invites William in to wait, but patience isn't exactly his strong suit. Instead, he bolts to the train station to pick up the doctor himself. On the way, he swings by the police station to file his report.

He's quick to point fingers at James, insisting he's the culprit. He explains that his sister, Janet, isn't responding, and something terrible must have happened. A police officer accompanies William to the station, and together with the doctor, they head back to the farmhouse. By now, the drama is in full swing. At the farmhouse, the investigation begins, with two distinct groups forming. One group comprises James and the officer who came with him, while the other consists of William, the doctor, and a second officer. They combed through the house, meticulously examining every corner. The scene they find is beyond gruesome.

In the middle of the room lies Janet's body, sprawled on her back. Blood is everywhere. The place is a mess, and yet, within the chaos, clues abound. Under the mattress, they find a broken pipe engraved with the initials, G.A. Canaan. In the fireplace, there's a small pot containing a boiled egg, and next to it, propped against the wall, is a bloodied axe with strands of hair that appear to belong to Janet. The evidence paints a horrifying picture, Janet was beaten with fists, struck with the axe, and her skull was completely shattered.

As if that wasn't enough, the killer removed her boots and left them neatly by the fireplace. To the police, this suggested that the murderer had taken their time, almost savoring the act. They'd broken in, killed Janet, removed her boots, smoked a pipe, and cooked an egg, completely unbothered. The police then searched the entire house to see if anything else was amiss. Williams' room was in shambles. The bed was unmade, drawers were overturned, and it was clear someone had been. rifling through his belongings. Oddly, what was taken didn't make much sense. A small box containing a single pound, some clothing, and a silver watch of little value were missing.

To the police, this robbery felt staged, a poor attempt to divert attention. By 9 a.m., Sheriff Barclay arrived at the property with another prosecutor and an order for the doctor to examine Janet's body. Her corpse was already stiff by the time they moved it to a table for inspection. The doctor confirmed what everyone feared, Janet had been brutally assaulted. Her arms, chest, and face were covered in injuries, and her skull was completely destroyed. Based on the state of her body, the doctor estimated her time of death to be between 2 o'clock and 3 p.m. on Friday. This timeline immediately ruled William out as a suspect, as he had multiple witnesses placing him in town at that time. Another curious detail. The kitchen key was

missing, suggesting the killer had taken it with them. The police began questioning neighbors and locals. One name kept coming up, Betsy Riley, a traveling saleswoman. Betsy was quickly tracked down and interrogated. She admitted to being near the farmhouse that morning but said she didn't go inside because she saw William and assumed the place was empty. However, she claimed to have seen Janet standing at the kitchen door, talking to a man. From a distance, she described the man as short, about five feet tall, wearing a dark coat, dirty trousers, and a leather-brimmed cap. For someone who claimed to be far away, her description was impressively detailed.

Naturally, the police took her story seriously. As days passed, the case only grew stranger. On Sunday, April 1st, William experienced something that sent shivers down his spine. He and his brother-in-law were cleaning the house when they decided to take a break and head to town. Upon their return, they heard noises coming from the servant's quarters. Quietly, William approached the room, flung the door open, and found none other than Christina Miller rummaging through the mattress. Startled, he demanded to know what she was doing.

Without saying a word, Christina bolted, leaving the house in a hurry. William reported the incident to the police, but they seemed uninterested. It was as if Christina didn't matter, as if her presence there held no significance. Meanwhile, the newspapers had a field day with the case. Every day, new headlines screamed about that mysterious farmhouse murder. Speculation ran wild, and public interest soared when the police offered a reward of 100 pounds for any useful information. The reward sent the public into a frenzy.

People flooded the police with tips, gossip, and accusations. Yet, none of the leads proved solid. The investigation seemed to hit a dead end until Monday, April 16th, when the police arrested a man they were convinced was the killer. His name was John Henderson, a recently released convict with a history of violent robbery. He fit Betsy's description, and when the police searched him, they found a pawn ticket for one pound, the same amount stolen from the farmhouse. When questioned, John claimed the ticket was for old clothes he'd pawned, insisting the money was legitimately earned. However, since clothing was also missing from the farmhouse, his story

seemed suspicious. Betsy was brought in to identify him, but by then, it was nighttime, and visibility was poor. The police lit candles to help her see, but she claimed she couldn't be certain. She promised to return the next morning for a clearer look. The following day, Betsy examined John Henderson again. This time, she confidently declared, congratulations, you found the murderer. But things weren't that simple. John had an airtight alibi.

He was in Edinburgh on the day of the murder, surrounded by witnesses who confirmed his whereabouts. Additionally, the police discovered that Betsy was struggling financially, and the reward money would have been a huge incentive for her to point fingers. Back to square one, the police revisited every piece of evidence and every testimony. Suspicion began to circle James. William had insisted that the pipe found that the scene wasn't his. He didn't smoke, and this was corroborated by everyone who knew him. James, on the other hand, claimed he didn't smoke either, but neighbors contradicted this,

saying James often smoked a pipe. Furthermore, on the day of the murder, several people noticed James changing his clothes twice, once in the morning and again in the evening. The broken pipe became a key piece of evidence. The police took it to a local craftsman who confirmed he'd made it. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember who he'd sold it to, but he noted that the pipe had been used only a few times before being broken with significant force. The more the police learned about James, the more questions arose.

fuel to the fire, Christina Miller re-entered the picture. When questioned, she revealed shocking details about James. According to her, James had a habit of smoking pipes, and just days before the murder, his pipe had broken, forcing him to buy a new one. Christina also claimed that William had been harassing her, making unwanted advances, and that James had defended her. In fact, she and James had become close friends, much to William's dismay. She also alleged that James had confided in his wife, admitting to the murder. This revelation seemed to be the breakthrough the police needed. On December 15th, James was arrested and formally charged with Janet's murder. If convicted, he faced the gallows. The trial was set for April,

and in the meantime, Christina, the star witness, was placed under police protection after they discovered she was planning to flee to America with her new boyfriend. When the trial began, it was a spectacle. Witness after witness testified against James, painting him as a guilty man. Then, Christina took the stand. The defense wasted no time discrediting her, pointing out her questionable character. They argued that she was a woman of low morals, reminding the jury of her flirtations with both William and James. They even brought up an incident where she allegedly spent the night in a barn with a stranger.

The defense suggested that this unknown man could very well be the killer. After all, Betsy had seen Janet speaking with a strange man at the kitchen door on the day of the murder. The jury deliberated, and in the end, they found James not guilty. He was set free, but the case remained unsolved. No one ever truly determined the motive behind Janet's murder. Why her? Why that farmhouse? And why such a staged, meaningless robbery? To this day, theories abound. Some believe James was the killer, manipulated by Christina. Others think Christina herself was the mastermind, driven by jealousy, possibly believing Janet was William's lover rather than his sister. The truth, however, remains a mystery. Now it's your turn. What do you think happened?

Who do you believe killed Janet Rogers? It was coming. I didn't know when it was coming, but I knew. I always said that one day, the house would be wrapped in yellow tape. Let's begin this story. It's really complicated and very confusing to understand the events, but we must go to the past, specifically to Forsyth County, North Carolina. After the American Civil War, black slaves in the South were emancipated and granted citizenship. However, although this sounded good, it was not welcomed by many people. The rate of lynchings of black people by white people, especially in the South, reached very high levels in the 19th century, and reports of lynchings began to be regularly published in newspapers.

The news always defended the whites, implying that they were merely defending themselves from the crimes of the black people, accusing them of theft, causing disturbances, being aggressive, problematic, and especially of overstepping with white women. In the early 20th century, things didn't improve, and as we saw in the case of Rosa Parks, the situation became unbearable. In the 1910 census of Forsyth County, it was estimated that there were approximately 10,000 white people compared to 858 black people and 440 mulattoes. I'm saying it like this, though it sounds harsh, because that's how it appeared in the documents, and these numbers made many white people uncomfortable. It is in this context that the so-called Forsyth County racial conflict of 1912 occurred. In September of that year, two attacks on white women were reportedly purportedly.

by black men. The first event took place on September 5, 1912, when a woman named Aaron Rice, who was married, reported that a black man had assaulted her. No evidence was sought, no witnesses were gathered, they simply arrested the man and judged him. The entire county turned against him, demanding his death and threatening to lynch him. Due to the pressure, the man confessed to everything while in jail. In fact, there were rumors that Aaron Rice was having an affair with the man, and to avoid the scandal, she reported him for assault. A black preacher named G. R. Smith, during a barbecue, mentioned this and said what everyone was thinking. For simply speaking out, a group of white people beat him. So, as you can imagine,

the story didn't end well. The second event occurred on September 9, 1912. On that day, an 18-year-old white girl named Slay May Crow was dragged into the woods, allegedly by Ernest Knox, a 16-year-old black boy. Ernest dragged May into the woods, and once there, he struck her in the head three times with a rock. He then went to meet some friends and told them what had happened. Unfortunately, the next morning, a search party found May's body, along with a small mirror that belonged to Ernest. They no longer wanted more evidence or witnesses, just the mirror. and that was enough. They arrested not only Ernest but also several of his friends, Oscar Daniel, Jane Daniel, and Rope Edward. All of them were accused of being accomplices.

The most shocking part is that Ernest Knox and Oscar Daniel were accused of assaulting May Crow, and both were sentenced to death by hanging. There was no evidence against them, no reliable witnesses, absolutely nothing, but for the whites, the mere fact of being black made you guilty. The execution was supposed to be private, with only the parents, the judges, and the jury present. However, an angry mob tore down the fences and took over the area of the hanging. It was never truly verified if these crimes and the ones involving L&GRY were committed by black people, but none of that seemed to matter. As a result of all this, the so-called night riders were created, groups of white people who went to black people's

homes and told them that if they didn't leave Forsyth County within 24 hours, they would be killed. They shot into the air, beat people, and as a result, 98% of the black population in Forsyth County disappeared. The whites quickly occupied the houses that the black people had left behind, not only their homes but also their jobs, their streets, everything that had once belonged to the black people now belonged to the whites. Over time, the entire county became very conservative, a group of conservative Catholics who followed biblical precepts to the letter and did everything possible to maintain a perfect image. They believed in God, in the devil, in good and evil, and anyone who didn't follow their rules was not worthy of being among them. Now, knowing the

context, it's time to meet the true Pizzou. John Alexander Lawson was born on August 12, in San Francisco, California, the only child of Cynthia and Timothy Lawson. From here, things get a little confusing. When John turned two years old, his parents moved to the town of Clemens, located in Forsyth County. As I mentioned earlier, Forsyth was a very conservative county, where people were all about appearances, and if someone stood out or was even a little different, they were automatically condemned to ostracism. That's exactly what happened to John. According to Carmen, the nanny he had between the ages of six and nine, John was a very good child but very sad.

He liked vampires, weirwolves, horror movies, and he was such a special child that others began to mock him. They laughed at his appearance, his way of being, and especially his smell, claiming that John smelled like human feces. However, his main problem wasn't outside the house but inside it. At the age of five, his father left them, and his mother, completely desperate, fell into alcoholism. She became uncontrollable and barely paid attention to her son. She would leave him alone for long periods while she went drinking and meeting men. In 1990, when John was 12 years old, his parents finally divorced. From then on, life became more and more unbearable for John.

He began drinking, hanging out with bad company, using drugs. and coming into contact with the darker side of society, misfits, social outcasts, older people, people with problems, and homeless people. Bullying went from bad to worse, and in 1998, Cynthia married a man named John Larry James, a man whom she forced her son to call Dad. Obviously, John hated this idea, and things got worse when Cynthia decided to move to 2749, he'll drive in Winston-Salem. John hated his stepfather. John hated his stepfather. the new house, the new surroundings, he hated everything, and slowly, he became uncontrollable and irritable. So, Cynthia sent him to a psychiatric hospital for a year, and once there,

he was diagnosed with various disorders, agoraphobia and schizophrenia. For a while, John calmed down, took pills, went to therapy, and had a routine. But at some point, Cynthia couldn't afford the treatment anymore. So, John returned to being the person he once was, without medication or medical follow-up. John Alexander Lawson, now Pizzou-Algarad, started to think that if people didn't want him or accept him as he was, the best thing he could do was to make them fear him. So, little by little, he began to change. This is when the terrible September 11th, 2001 attacks occurred, and the Twin Towers were hit by a devastating attack. As a result, 2,996 people lost their lives.

The racial tensions resurfaced, and John decided that he had to capitalize on it. He decided to take the fears of the people of Winston-Salem and merged them into himself. People were afraid of the Islamic State, and they were also afraid of Satan. So, in 2002, at the age of 24, he went to the civil registry and legally changed his name to Pizzou-Algarat. I will now explain why he chose this name. First, we have Pizzou. Pizzuzziu is the name of a Sumerian god considered a demon by the Catholic Church.

For Catholics, he is the king of the demons of the wind, and his power is terrible. John had always been a fan of horror movies, and one of his favorites was The Exorcist, and coincidentally, the demon in that movie was Pizzu. So, he likely chose this name to invoke that demon. Additionally, by taking the name of a demon, he believed he was gaining its strength, and therefore, he himself would become one of them. Next, we have the name Algarad. The media is unclear on the exact meaning, the origin, or why he chose it.

Some say it was to allude to his supposed Arabic and Greek heritage, while others say it is a purely Arabic surname. A few suggest that it is a combination of demon names, specifically Agars and Asero. Agars causes earthquakes, teaches languages, and delights in immoral and impure actions. Acero, among many other things, has the ability to alter and manipulate the fate of people. With a different name, Pizzuzu had to be someone physically different from who he once was, so he got dreadlocks, filed his teeth with a Dremel tool, tattooed his body and face, and had surgery to make his tongue bifit.

From this point on, his life changed completely. He began showering only once a year, brushing his teeth once a month, and turned his house into a temple of debauchery. Pizzuzu started spreading rumors and lies about himself. He said that he sacrificed animals in his honor, drank their blood, organized rituals, sold drugs, and began claiming he was sacrificing humans, killing people, homeless people, prostitutes. While he would later commit some crimes, it was never proven that the previous ones, those involving legends and rumors, were true. Pizzuzu was the king of his house.

He could do whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted, and however he wanted. So, he decided to turn his home into a temple for all those people who didn't fit in Winston-Salem, social outcasts, unemployed people, drug addicts, homeless people, rebellious boys and girls. All of them went to his house, and they did whatever they wanted. Everything was allowed. You could use drugs in any corner, sleep with anyone you wanted, break the walls, break the chairs, spit on the floor, mess up anything. You could do whatever you could imagine because Pizzuzu allowed it. To be continued. They all went to his house and did whatever they wanted. Everything was allowed. You could do drugs in any corner, sleep with anyone you wanted, break the walls, break the chairs, the furniture, spit on the floor, touch anywhere, you could do whatever you could imagine. because Pizzuzu allowed it. In that house, there was only one rule, and it was even written on the door, no gang members allowed. Anyone who dresses the same and wears the same insignia, those who claim to be the authority of a land they did not create and that they took over through

terrorism, are not allowed to enter this land unless they are native. For this is their land. This is the First Amendment of your false laws. Because of this, we see that you are guilty until proven innocent. If you can make laws, we can too. So be it. Everything that happened in the house was authorized by Pazuzu's mother. She saw the drug use, the fights, the chaos, but this woman never said anything about it, supposedly because she was afraid of her son, something that, to some extent, few people believe. With a temple of debauchery and a terrifying appearance, Pazuzer wanted to become a religious leader. His greatest idol, was Charles Manson, and just like him, he wanted to have his own cult, a cult inspired not only

by the family but also by the ideas of Alistair Crowley and Anton Levy. He believed that by merging these ideas, he would become a great leader, a leader who would attract many people, both men and women. In fact, a large group of women gathered in that house, but among them, two stood out above the rest, Amber Burke, aka Babbles, and Crystal Madlock, whom he considered his fiancés. He wanted to be a trendsetter, to attract people, manipulate minds, and believe that, underscore, had made him invincible. Even so, he was very clear that if he was ever caught or anything happened, he would take his own life, just like Kurt Cobain.

From this point on, the proven crimes of Pizzou begin. The first crime involved the person who had all. always had a good life, Josh Wexler. According to loved ones, Josh was an incredible person who loved animals, nature. At 22, Josh met Stacey, and they quickly hit it off, started dating, got married, and in 2006, they bought a farm to raise horses for equine therapy. For several months, things went well. They paid the bills, had clients, but unfortunately, in 2008, the great recession hit. This economic crisis caused the couple to stop paying bills. By 2007, they started having more and more problems, they couldn't make ends meet, weren't receiving payments,

and in 2008, the bank took their farm. Just when this happened, Stacey discovered she was pregnant. But the tensions between them were so unbearable that they divorced. Stacey found a job but a nearby farm, but Josh wasn't so lucky and ended up living in a trailer. From there, he searched for work, at restaurants, warehouses, and farms, but no one, absolutely no one, would hire him. Desperate, he resorted to selling drugs, specifically hallucinogenic mushrooms. This was a serious crime punishable by law, but Josh was so desperate that he didn't even think twice. In 2009, the police knocked on his door and took him to prison. From then on, with a criminal record, Josh couldn't get a job anywhere.

No matter where he went, or who he asked, no one wanted him with that stain. So, in July 2009, he decided to turn to Pizzou-Algarat, a person closely connected to the drug world. Unfortunately, from there, no one ever saw Josh again. The last time Stacey spoke to Josh was on July 1st, 2009, and from then on, he never called or returned home. We don't know exactly what happened, but what is clear is that Pizzuzzi shot Josh inside the house, and after this, Pizzuzzo stored Josh's body and placed it in the basement of the house, where he shot him several more times. The autopsy showed that Josh had three shots to the head and five to the torso. Days passed, and Pizzuzzo told everyone that there was a cadaver in his

basement, a corpse that was slowly decomposing. He would always say things like that, about murders, kidnappings, but no one ever took him seriously. As much as he had probably stolen a couple of times, he had never killed anyone before, so everyone thought Pizzou was just joking. While everyone thought it was a lie, he, Amber Burke, Crystal Madlock, and several others dismembered Josh and buried him in the backyard. The night this supposedly happened, a girl named Tarina Billings called the police, saying her father had told her that he had buried a man in Pezzuzu's backyard. The girl gave many details, but the officers ignored her, as well as the anonymous calls that came in over the following days. Among these calls was one from Matt Flowers,

a guy who had been Pezuzu's best friend up until that point. He called Pezuzu, brother, and Pezuzu had a way of getting into your head, almost like manipulating you into doing dark things. Matt said that on one occasion, Pizzuzoo drugged him without warning and injected him with large doses of all kinds of hallucinogens. Terrified, Matt almost went to a hospital. For about a month, I thought I had gone crazy. I tried to check myself into a psychiatric center, but I didn't know at the time, but I knew I had to get out of there. This experience led Matt to join the army and fight in Iraq. While he was away, he rebuilt himself, detoxed, moved on, and exchanged letters with his girlfriend at the time, Daisy, who was Amber

Burke's best friend. When things got a little darker, Matt returned to the United States. Daisy told him that there were two bodies buried in Pizzuzzi's backyard. She said Amber had told her everything, and that Pizzou had lost his mind. So, Matt grabbed the phone and anonymously informed the police. But once again, the officers ignored him. This is when many of you will feel a chill down your spine because, as I mentioned before, Pizzuzzi didn't just kill one person but two. There were two bodies buried in his backyard. In October 2009, he and Amber Burke crossed paths with Tommy Wells.

Tommy was apparently going to his brother's house, but the couple invited him to come with them to Pizzouz's house. Once there, Amber grabbed a rifle and shot him in the head. After this, Crystal helped Amber bury the body in the backyard. And once again, they spread the rumor that there were bodies in that house, telling everyone that there were dead people, that they had shot people, and that they were going to kill more people. Once again, no one believed them.

They thought it was a lie, a joke, especially when they started saying they had eaten human flesh from the bodies of their victims. Amid all this chaos, Nenefius, a friend of Pizzuzziers, completely drugged and drunk, told a girl everything that had happened, the murders, the names of the victims, and the exact locations where they were buried. The girl, without hesitation, grabbed her phone and recorded everything. There were several people that spoke up on the voice recording, but the main voice was Nate. I started laughing and said, Is it true that Pizzou actually killed people? Nate looked at me and said, well yeah, like it was common knowledge. He said, yeah, he killed people. I went to the

sheriff's office with a voice recording and my personal knowledge of who was involved in the murders and told them what I knew. So, the girl showed the audio to Stacy, Josh's widow, and in February 2010, she went to the police station and reported that her husband was dead and buried in Pazzo's backyard. It was then that the officers considered they had enough evidence to search Pazzo's house. They went in with dogs, gloves, flashlights, and all the equipment. They saw the trash, syringes, feces, bloodstains, but they went to the backyard. There, supposedly, they didn't find anything. Maybe the strong smell prevented the dogs from detecting the bodies, but what didn't make sense was that they didn't see the disturbed piles of dirt in the backyard,

two piles that clearly indicated there were two graves. It was evident that there were two bodies, but the officers completely ignored it. On June 7, 2010, a third crime tour, took place. One of Pazuzu's favorite places to make sacrifices was the Yetkin River. He would go there with his friends and sacrifice animals, decapitating rabbits, cats, and dogs. Afterward, he would drink their blood. However, one October morning in 2010, he decided the sacrifice had to be a different one. While heading to the river with Nicholas Pask to R. They crossed paths with Joseph E.M.R. Chandler, a 35-year-old black man who had recently been declared legally blind. It's unclear whether the guys knew this man before or if they were friends, but what does seem important is that the

three men, at one point, walked by the river until they stopped. Once they stopped, Nicholas took out a shotgun and shot Joseph in the head. The gun didn't fire, so he left it on the ground, went to the car, grabbed a pistol, and returned to shoot Joseph again. This time, It was fatal. After an investigation, Nicholas and Pizzuzzi were arrested, but Forsyth County has a long history of racial crimes, and the population still considered black people a problem. So, the two men were not judged harshly. Nicholas claimed he killed Joseph in self-defense, and he was convicted of involuntary manslaughter. Pizzou, supposedly not having shot, but being an accomplice, underwent a psychological evaluation.

The evaluation determined that he suffered from agoraphobia, alcoholism, schizophrenia, had poor hygiene, high cholesterol, and thyroid problems. After this, he was prescribed treatment, and the police kept a close watch on him. Over the years, more and more reports piled up at the police station. There were more calls, complaints, rumors, legends, but the officers ignored it all. No one went to his house, no one searched any house. no one checked anything. It wasn't until 2014 that they finally decided to search his house, and this only happened because Matt Flowers had to personally go to the police station and threaten the officers with taking justice into his own hands. After returning home,

Matt approached Pizzou to find out what was going on, if he had killed someone, if he had gone crazy, and saw with his own eyes that someone who had once been his best friend had gone completely mad. During a party at Pazuzer's house, he asked Matt. He asked Matt, to kill a man. Matt obviously refused, and after arguing for a while, Matt left the house. A few days later, he found out that Pizzuzu had been saying that at one of his parties, he had killed a military man, as a military man. This affected Matt deeply because exaggerating things, lying, fantasizing, was one thing, but doing it with those kinds of topics was a different matter. So, Matt decided to go to the police station personally and report it.

He knew he had to go to the police, and he had to be arrested. I went there and told them everything I knew. I drew a diagram of where I thought the bodies were buried, and I told them, I'll give you a week, and if you don't do something, I'll handle it myself. This time, they finally found the two bodies. On October 5, 2014, Amber Burke, Crystal Madlock, and Pizzouzzer Algarad were arrested and charged with murder and concealment.

Amber Burke pleaded guilty to shooting Tommy Wells, but she claimed she did it because of Stockholm syndrome, saying she did it to please Pizzou. However, she couldn't avoid a sentence of 30 to 40 years in prison. Madlock didn't kill anyone, but she did help bury the bodies, so in 2017, she was sentenced to between 38 and 58 months in prison. Pizzou didn't have the same luck, as everything pointed to him receiving a life sentence. Fortunately, he wasn't going to let the days end like that, not in an epic way, not in a memorable way, not in an impactful way. So, he made it clear to everyone that he would end his life like Kurt Cobain. The night before the trial, he took his life inside his cell.

The press said that he took his life by cutting his wrists with his teeth, which he had filed years earlier with a Dremel. However, according to the autopsy, this was not true. There were bite marks on his wrists, but these marks were from days before. What really killed him was a cut made with a sharp object on his artery, an object that was never found in his cell and wasn't recorded during the autopsy. So, two things point to this. The first is that there was someone in prison who agreed with his philosophy, someone who may have passed him a sharp object,

an object that accidentally disappeared when the body was taken to the morgue. The second version says that Pizzou didn't take his life, he was killed. The police were afraid of him, but not of his person, not of his magical powers or his evil. They feared what he might confess in court, because he had probably killed more people than the ones found in his backyard. They probably saw something in the police that they didn't want him to know. So, someone got into his cell and killed him to prevent him from speaking. Got a letter from you and one from Amber. I despise the human race. People are ugly and and pointless creatures. I sit back and watch them, and they anger me. I should get a medal for

murdering these stupid. Maybe when I'm dead, the gods of chaos shall grant me the power. I mean, he just, he was so hurt and angry, you know. And so, how's your way when? But of course, now it's your turn. What do you think of the case, and what do you believe really happened in Pizzou's cell. The end. On the morning of July 18, 1989, a man knocked on the door of Rebecca Shifa, a young actress whose career was just beginning to take off. She had spoken to this man before, he had knocked on her door previously, and they had a conversation. However, this time was different. The man came back, and when Rebecca opened the door, the conversation turned uncomfortable. Sensing something was off, she tried to politely ask him to leave. But the

man wasn't just any stranger, he had something far more sinister in mind. He pulled out a gun and shot Rebecca twice in the chest, ending her life right there on the spot. But who was this man, and why did he commit such an atrocious act? Let's take a closer look at the tragic story that led to Rebecca's untimely death and the events that spiraled into this horrifying crime. Rebecca Shifa was born on November 6, 1967, in Eugene, Oregon. She was the only child of Dana, a writer and instructor in Portland, and Benson Shifa, a child psychologist. Rebecca had what seemed like a perfect childhood, she was happy, studious, and deeply committed to her family and religion. At one point, she dreamed of becoming a rabbi, and she worked

hard to achieve that goal. She attended Lincoln High School, where her motivation to pursue religious studies was evident. However, during her sophomore year, she caught the attention of a talent scout. Rebecca was strikingly beautiful, with curly hair and tall stature for her age. It was clear that her path might not lead her to a religious life, but to something much more glamorous. She began modeling for major department stores and appearing in TV commercials. Soon, Rebecca found herself moving away from her initial dream of becoming a rabbi in towards the allure of the spotlight, enjoying photo shoots and fashion shows. Her parents, though initially hesitant, saw her passion and maturity. They supported her

decision to follow this new dream. So, in August 1984, when Rebecca suggested moving to New York to pursue modeling, her parents agreed. They believed she was responsible enough to take care of herself, and after all, it was only a temporary move. Once in New York, Rebecca worked with elite models management and found success. She was doing well and making many friends. It was clear she had a promising future, but her heart wasn't set solely on modeling. As her career progressed, Rebecca began to explore acting. At first, she attended professional children's school in New York, a place for young aspiring actors and models. It wasn't long before Rebecca started landing roles. Her first big break came in 1984 and she was cast in a minor role in the soap opera One Life

to live on ABC. Her performance was well received, and her role was expanded from a short guest appearance to a six-month run. After this success, her manager encouraged her to go to Japan to explore modeling opportunities. However, her time in Japan didn't go as planned. They told her she was too tall, her hair was too curly, and her eyes too large. Frustrated, Rebecca returned to New York to focus more on acting. Despite the setbacks, Rebecca didn't give up. She kept working hard, and in 1986, she appeared in radio days, a film by Woody Allen. Unfortunately, her screen time in the final cut was minimal, but it was a start. Her career seemed to stall for a while. while. She couldn't find steady acting work, and the bills began to pile up. She was forced to

take on jobs as a waitress while doing occasional photo shoots to make ends meet. It was during this time that her breakthrough came. A photo shoot for 17 magazine caught the attention of the producers of a TV series called My Sister Sam. Rebecca was cast in the role of Patty Russell, the younger sister in the series, and her character quickly became beloved by audiences. The first season of my sister Sam was a hit, and Rebecca's popularity skyrocketed. She was flooded with fan mail, flowers, and gifts. Her manager had to step in to handle the overwhelming correspondence, and it wasn't long before she received some letters that were eerily obsessive.

Among her fans was John Bardo. John Bardo was born on January 2, 1970, in Taos, Arizona, the seventh child of a mixed heritage family. His father was a sub-officer in the U.S. Air Force, which meant the family moved frequently. By 1983, they had settled in Tucson, Arizona. John's early life was troubled, marked by violence and instability at home. His older brother physically abused him, and this led to severe emotional trauma. John was eventually placed in foster care, where he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a condition that contributed

to his increasingly obsessive and erratic behavior. At 13, John became fixated on a young girl named Samantha Smith, a peace activist who gained international fame for her letter to Soviet leader Yuri Andropov. Although Samantha never responded to John's letters, his obsession grew. He even ran away from home, attempting to meet Samantha in person. He was intercepted before he could do anything harmful, but this marked the beginning of his dangerous obsession with celebrities. By the time John was 15, his behavior had escalated to the point where he was institutionalized. However, he later appeared to recover and began working at a jack-in-the-box restaurant. It was during this time that he became obsessed with Rebecca

Shifa after watching my sister Sam. In his mind, Rebecca wasn't just a TV character, she was someone he needed to be with. John started writing her letters, many of them every week. Eventually, he received a signed photo from Rebecca, one she had signed to show gratitude for her fans, though it was her manager who had actually handled the responses. To John, this signed photo was proof that Rebecca was in love with him. He believed it was a sign to be signed. that she wanted to be with him, and this delusion only deepened his obsession. John then went to extreme lengths to obtain her personal information. At the time, it was easier than ever to find a celebrity's address, and John managed to

track down where Rebecca lived in New York City. On the morning of July 18, 1989, John showed up at Rebecca's apartment, dressed in yellow, and knocked on her door. He knew everything about her, her birthday, her family, her career, and her preferences. When she opened the door, he showed her the letter he had received, believing that it was a sign of a deep, mutual connection. But Rebecca wasn't having it. She kindly told him that she didn't know who he was and that he should leave.

John's delusions were shattered, and he retreated to a nearby restaurant to collect his thoughts. He couldn't understand why Rebecca didn't feel the same way. He had already convinced himself that she was his, and her polite dismissal angered him. He returned to his apartment, grabbed the gun he had illegally obtained. and set out for Rebecca's building once more. This time, when he knocked on her door, his actions were far from polite. Rebecca, perhaps realizing the seriousness of the situation, refused to engage with him any further. But John wasn't going to let her go so easily.

In a fit of rage, he pulled out his gun and shot Rebecca twice in the chest. He fled the scene immediately, leaving her to die alone in her apartment. Rebecca's death was tragic, and the police soon began investigating the case. Meanwhile, John's bizarre behavior continued. The next day, in a highly erratic state, he was found wandering the streets of Tucson, carrying a copy of The Catcher in the Rye, a book that has been linked to several famous crimes. He was arrested for disturbing the peace, but authorities soon discovered that he had known disturbing details about Rebecca's murder, details that only the killer could have known.

His obsession with her had driven him to commit the unimaginable. John was arrested and, after a trial, was convicted of first-degree murder. He was sentenced to life in prison. In the years following Rebecca's death, laws were passed to protect the privacy of public figures, including a law in California that prohibited the release of personal addresses. The tragedy also led to the creation of the first law enforcement unit dedicated to managing threats against celebrities. The case remains one of the most chilling examples of obsession taken to an extreme.

John Bardo's delusions and violent actions ended the life of a promising actress who had only just begun to shine in her career. The question remains, could anything have been done to prevent this tragedy? Would better protection for celebrities have saved Rebecca, or was it a case of a disturbed individual whose obsession could never be stopped? What do you think? Could this tragedy have been avoided, or was it simply the result of a man whose mind was too far gone?

Around 8 a.m., the phone started ringing, and when he picked it up, there was terrible news on the other end. Brenda was in the hospital. So without thinking, he grabbed the keys, got to be able to. in the car and tried to start the engine, but when he did, Rob realized something very strange was happening to the car. Let's begin. Thanksgiving Day, 2001, was supposed to be very different. It was the first year, after a lifetime together, that Rob and Brenda weren't going to spend it as a couple. Just a few weeks earlier, they had finalized their divorce, and as

agreed, Rob would pick up the kids and leave. But then Brenda told him that the oven wasn't working and asked him to please take a look at it before leaving with the children. However, when Rob stepped out of the car and entered the house, two men dressed in black with their faces covered open fire on them. One shot struck Brenda in the arm, and two hit Rob in the body, killing him instantly. Who could do such a thing? Did Rob have problems with anyone? Let's find out.

This story begins with a very special girl, Brenda Evers, who was born on December 16th, in Enid, Oklahoma. She was the second daughter of a Lutheran couple. As she grew up, Brenda and her sister Kimberly participated in all kinds of activities, mostly related to church. Coming from a very religious family, faith was a crucial part of their lives. They dressed modestly, didn't drink or smoke, and always returned home punctually. Brenda, in particular, never did anything against her beliefs.

She wasn't rebellious as a teenager, her grades were never poor, and, as one would expect, whenever the church doors were open, she was inside. But while Brenda appeared almost perfect in public, behind closed doors she was a completely different person. Like most people, she enjoyed male attention. But unwilling to do certain things that would make her feel immoral, she limited herself to subtly flirting with boys, giving them hope, manipulating them, playing with their feelings, and practically had all of them wrapped around her finger. All the boys were crazy about her, she was beautiful, inaccessible, devoted to God, a real challenge.

And Brenda loved it. But she wasn't going to pick just anyone. Her man had to share her convictions. Eventually, she found him. Kim Bowling, Brenda's sister, introduced her to a guy who immediately caught her attention. His name was Rob Andrew, and his record was nearly as clean as hers. Both had been born and raised in Enid, Oklahoma. They went to the same school, the same church.

Rob was everything Brenda was looking for. Almost instantly, the young couple began dating, and publicly their relationship was picture-perfect. Rob would bring her home before dark, he was chivalrous and respectful, and their relationship didn't affect Brenda's grades. For both sets of parents, it was an ideal match. After high school, Rob decided to attend Oklahoma State University, and Brenda followed his lead. Once there, they continued thriving. He had excellent grades, and so did she.

But that's when Brenda's family began to notice something. She was more concerned about Rob's success than her own. Sure, she still had good grades, still participated, still had drive, but she was more focused on Rob than on her future. Still, since it didn't seem to be negatively affecting her, the family overlooked it. Then came the shocking news, their younger daughter, Brenda, was not only about to graduate in a few months, but she was also going to marry Rob Andrew. With such a big decision on the table, Brenda promised she wouldn't abandon her career, that she would keep looking forward, and that she was determined to become a successful woman. Everyone supported her decision, and the wedding took

place. After graduating and getting married, the couple began to thrive. Rob landed a job at a successful advertising agency and started earning a lot of money. Brenda started working at a bank. The promises she had made to her family seemed to be coming true. However, in 1991, that successful woman radically changed the course of her life when she announced that she was pregnant. And although she loved her job, she had decided to leave it behind to dedicate herself entirely to raising her first child. Nine months later, Brenda Andrew gave birth to her first daughter, Tricity. For years later, she welcomed their second child, Parker.

Thanks to Rob's salary, the family went from living in a small house to a much larger one in one of Oklahoma's best suburbs, Landsbrook. That area was considered idyllic, paired homes, clean streets, polite and successful neighbors, parks, pools, a lake. That's when Brenda became the stereotypical American housewife, the perfect friend and neighbor, the understanding mother who never missed her son's games, who always had her kids looking impeccable. She also became a Sunday school teacher at North Point Baptist Church. But when Brenda turned 30, her attitude began to change. She was still young and beautiful, but she no longer felt that way. She thought her clothes were more suited for

a 60-year-old than a woman in her 30s. So, she decided to update her wardrobe and adopt a more daring style. Anonymous sources, presumably friends of Brenda, say she began wearing shorter skirts, patterns, and brighter colors. She didn't wear revealing necklines or extremely short skirts, but for her, the change was radical. Some of her fellow churchgoers began to see her style as too provocative. Slowly, people started talking behind her back, how could someone so proper wear short skirts? How could a mother dress like that? Those questions started to float around, questions that Brenda perceived as indirect attacks. And so, the community split into two groups. First, those who supported Brenda. She was understanding, devout, a great teacher. The children loved her,

and she never missed a religious event. So no matter what she wore, they didn't care. Then there was the more conservative group, the one that said Brenda was playing with fire, that she dressed provocatively, that she distracted the children, that she tempted the men. Until then, what people held against her was mostly baseless.

They judged the morality of someone who had always been modest, reserved, and practically perfect. But then came a rumor, one that made half the congregation turn their backs on Brenda Andrew. People began to notice that she was getting along too well with another Sunday school teacher, 49-year-old James Pavett. People claimed to see them constantly together, too affectionate, exchanging glances. The rumors eventually reached Rob Andrew.

Naturally, Rob confronted Brenda, and she told them a story that made him feel sorry for the man. Apparently, James Pavit had just gone through a difficult divorce. His wife, Sukhwe, filed for divorce without giving him any explanation, and he didn't know how to cope with it. Brenda, wanting to help, offered him emotional support. She invited Rob to do the same, to call James, hang out with him, do things together. Rob agreed. He got James' phone number, and they began spending time together.

They went fishing, hunting, attended church, they became inseparable. Weeks passed, and James, who also worked for an insurance company, offered Rob a policy. As previously mentioned, Rob worked at an advertising agency and had steadily climbed the ranks to a very important position, one that brought immense stress. He often worried that he might die of a heart attack or in a car accident. So, he decided to take out a life insurance policy worth $1 million. If he died, all that money would go directly to his beloved wife, Brenda Andrew. And from here, things began to get complicated.

To be continued. So, he decided to take out a life insurance policy worth $1 million. If he died, all that money would go directly to his beloved wife, Brenda Andrew. And from here, things started to get a life. complicated. Brenda was slowly approaching 40, and as happens to many people, she began experiencing a personal crisis. She questioned who she was, what she was doing with her life, and it all began to take a toll on the once happy marriage. Arguments started to arise, and by the end of September or early October 2001, the couple separated temporarily. Brenda wanted space,

and Rob gave it to her. But then came October 26, 2000. and one, and something extremely strange happened to rob. Around 8 a.m., the phone started ringing, and when he picked it up, there was very bad news on the other end, Brenda was in the hospital. Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys, got into the car, and tried to start the engine. But when he did, he realized something was wrong with the car. He turned off the engine, got out, and started pushing the car to a friend's house, a friend who was a mechanic. While there, between 9.15 and 9.30 a.m., Rob called the hospital asking for his

wife. But the woman who answered told him there was no one admitted under the name Brenda Andrew. Rob insisted and asked using her maiden name, Brenda Evers, and again, the response was the same, his wife was not there. After the call, Rob asked his friend how the car was doing, and the friend told him he was convinced that someone had tampered with the vehicle, the brakes had been cut. Had Rob started the car and driven to the hospital, he would have most likely been in a deadly accident. Terrified, Rob called the police and informed them of what had just happened. Then, almost immediately after, he called James and asked him to remove Brenda as the sole beneficiary of his life insurance policy. But James told him he couldn't, the paperwork had

been filled out incorrectly, and now Brenda was the sole owner of the policy. Weeks passed, and Rob a assumed the marriage was beyond saving. The more he tried to please Brenda, the more dissatisfied she seemed. Eventually, he gave up and signed the divorce papers. Brenda gained custody of the children, and Rob would see them on weekends and holidays. At this point, many would think their lives were finally settling down. But unfortunately, according to several sources, Brenda continued playing with Rob's emotions. Anytime something broke in the house, when Whenever she had a problem, the antenna wasn't working, a minor issue came up, Brenda would call Rob, and he would drop everything to go help her.

The night of November 20, 2001, was one of those nights. Rob went to Brenda's house to pick up the children and spend Thanksgiving with them. Upon arrival, Brenda asked him to come inside. Apparently, the oven light wasn't working, and she asked him to take a look. That's when chaos broke out. entered the kitchen through the garage. While he was checking the oven, two men dressed in black entered and pointed guns at them. They demanded all the jewelry and money in the house. But Brenda and Rob moved too slowly, and the men opened fire. A bullet struck Brenda in the arm,

and two hit Rob in the head and torso, killing him instantly. Seeing what they had done, the two men fled. Brenda ran to the bedroom and called 911. When the police arrived, arrived, they couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was one of the safest neighborhoods in all of Oklahoma, and nothing like this had ever been reported. They immediately suspected a crime of passion, the attackers didn't steal anything and directly targeted Rob Andrew. But Brenda was visibly shaken. She was crying, and she was also injured, she had been shot in the arm. Although the wound was superficial, it was still a gunshot. This is when the interrogations began. Neighbors only had good things to say about Brenda, that she was kind, pleasant, generous, a great mother. Her family said the same. But then came the rumors, rumors that Brenda was having an affair with James Pavett. That's when Pandora's box flew wide open. Investigators looked into this story and asked Rob's friends whether he'd had any issues with James.

Some said yes. They recounted how James had sold Rob a life insurance person. policy that named Brenda as the sole beneficiary. They also mentioned that not long after, someone had cut the brakes on Rob Andrew's car. To the police, the case was now clear, James pulled the trigger, and Brenda orchestrated the whole thing. So they decided to arrest both of them, on the day of Rob Andrew's funeral. But what happened? Neither Brenda, James, nor the children showed up to the funeral. That's when the police realized they had made a terrible mistake. Local and federal agents began searching for the pair across the United States, but there

was no trace of them. Unfortunately for them, on February 28, 2002, they made a mistake, and were arrested at the Mexican border. The charges filed against James Pavett and Brenda Andrew were first-degree murder, but each had very different motives, so two separate trials were conducted, one for James and another for Brenda. The trial against James Pavett began on August 25, 2003. Prosecutors brought his pass to light. First, it was revealed that James Pavett hadn't always been a Sunday school teacher, he was previously a sniper for the United States Army. He was highly trained with weapons and an excellent marksman. Second, his ex-wife, Sokwi, testified at the trial. She said, we were married for nine years. We divorced on September 6, 2001.

I know that if he loved someone, he would do anything for that person. She also said that combat had completely changed James' personality and that, fearing for her safety, she had decided to divorce him. He wasn't the same gym I knew for nine years. He had been the kindest man while we were married. Something wasn't right with him. The third point came from a former army comrade, who said James had always seemed mentally unstable.

He said, he was always talking. about shooting dogs. Every time he saw a dog, he talked about shooting it. While revisiting his past, prosecutors also looked at the present. First, there was Rob Andrews police report claiming someone had tampered with the brakes on his car. That someone could very well have been James, the same person who had sold him a $1 million life insurance policy and wouldn't let him remove Brenda as the sole beneficiary.

Then, there was the crime scene, it clearly involved a skilled shooter. and James fit the profile. The only issue. The murder weapon had not been found. That's when the defense argued that the idea of James killing Robb made no sense. The two were good friends, and only Brenda stood to benefit. Moreover, if James really wanted to be with Brenda, he only had to wait a few more weeks for the divorce to be finalized.

Despite these arguments, James Pavett was found guilty of first-degree murder and sentence to death. Then, on June 17, 2004, the second trial began, the State v. Brenda Andrew. This trial turned out to be very controversial because of the shocking revelations it uncovered. The defense claimed that up until that moment, Brenda had been the perfect woman, a good mother, good housewife, good wife. But when she met James Pavett, everything changed. They suggested he was the one who changed her, that he made her into a different person. But then the prosecution presented witnesses and showed that Brenda had always been just a facade.

At the beginning of this story, it was mentioned that Brenda loved attention, that she flirted with boys and enjoyed being chased. Well, during her entire marriage to Rob Andrew, she had multiple lovers. The only one made public was James Pavett, because Brenda failed to hide it. The prosecution also presented the phone call Rob Andrew made, the one where he was told Brenda was in the hospital. According to them, this proved she already had a clear plan, to get rid of Rob and collect the life insurance money. She wanted to end the relationship but maintain the lifestyle. So she cut the brakes and faked a hospital emergency. When that didn't work,

she called James Pavett and they orchestrated the perfect plan, a fake robbery that ended in murder. If Rob died, she would inherit $1 million. But not only that, if James died, she would also receive $800,000, because apparently, he too had taken out a life insurance policy with Brenda as the sole beneficiary. The defense argued that this was all speculation. They insisted Brenda was a good mother and would never hurt Rob for the sake of her children. They said James had written a letter taking full responsibility for the crime, a letter addressed to Tricity, Brenda's daughter, in which he told the girl that he had killed Rob and that her mother was innocent. The third argument was that it made no sense for Brenda

to have planned the murder, since she too was injured. Unfortunately for Brenda, the prosecution had evidence that destroyed those arguments. First, they proved that James's letter was fake. Second, they said Brenda's injuries were self-inflicted. The first shot was fired from a specific location, and the second was from the spot Brenda had supposedly been standing. The wound in her arm could have resulted from recoil or a misfire she caused herself. Experts concluded that James shot Rob, but Brenda, not satisfied, grabbed the gun and shot again, and afterward, hurt herself to complete the deception. On July 13, 2004, after six hours of deliberation, the jury found Brenda Andrew guilty

of first-degree murder and sentenced her to death. Now it's your turn. What do you think of the case? Do you believe Brenda Andrew really killed Rob? The end. Wherever Salina went, Yolanda was never far behind. It didn't matter where the trip was or how long she'd have to wait, Yolanda was always there. She was like Selena's shadow, but a friend who stood by her through thick and thin.

Selina valued the support, so much so that she came to see Yolanda as one of her best friends. In fact, she trusted her so deeply that in early 1994, she made Yolanda the director of her boutique. and even her personal agent. This meant Yolanda had access to Salina's accounts, all of them. Selina Quintinia Perez, widely known as the Queen of Tejano Music, was one of the most influential Latin artists of the 1990s. She sold over 35 million records, which made her the fourth best-selling Latina artist ever, just behind Gloria Estefan, Jennifer Lopez, and Shakira. Tragically, though, as her career was peaking, one bullet changed everything. That shot didn't just destroy her dreams and devastate her family, it also broke the hearts of millions of fans around the

world. Selina was beloved, she had no enemies, so her death left everyone with questions. But Yolanda didn't flee the crime scene. When she was caught, the fury was immediate and global, she was the one who had pulled the trigger, the very person Selena had trusted most in recent years. Selina was born on April 16, 1971, in Lake Jackson, Texas, as one of the daughters of Abraham Quintanilla and Marcella Perez. Even as a child, her parents recognized her incredible talent, she loved music and dancing. Abraham, who owned a restaurant, would take every opportunity to let Selena sing on stage, often with her siblings as backup. This was how the group Selena Y. Los Dinos was born. To some, it might have seemed like a fun family

gig. But these kids had serious talent and quickly rose to popularity. In 1984, they released their debut album, Ms. Primera's Grabations, My First Recordings, and their success only grew. In 1989, EMI took notice and signed her. By the end of that year, Selina released her first single under her own name. She quickly became a superstar, dominating charts worldwide and earning many awards. In 1987, she won female vocalist of the year and performer of the year at the Tejano Music Awards, and in 1993, she won a Grammy for her album Live. Her career skyrocketed, and her personal life followed. In 1992, she secretly married Chris Perez, her band's lead guitarist.

Despite her fame and fortune, Selena was humble, always keeping her feet on the ground. She genuinely loved her fans and constantly looked for ways to give back. But with so many fans, she couldn't keep up with them all. In 1991, a woman named Yolanda Saldivar stepped forward, volunteering to run Selena's official fan club. Selena and her family, grateful for the gesture, readily agreed and welcomed Yolanda into their lives. Yolanda was born on September 19, 1960, in San Antonio, Texas, as the youngest of Frank

and Juanita Saldivar's eight children. Her life couldn't have been more different from Salinas. While Selena thrived in music, Yolanda struggled to find her place. Teased in school for her weight, Yolanda didn't have friends and was neither a good student nor particularly talented at anything. Finally, she found her calling in nursing. After studying at several institutions, she earned her degree in 1990 and found work at a hospital. For the first time, things seemed to go well for Yolanda.

She even earned enough money to adopt three kids, including her niece, who was a huge Selena fan. According to Yolanda, Tejano music wasn't really her thing, but Selena was different. Yolanda admired her so much that she wanted to start Selena's first fan club and become its president. But there are two sides to this story, the Quintanias and Yolanda's. Abraham Keentania claims Yolanda was pushy, calling him repeatedly, up to a dozen times in one week, and even sending three letters, practically begging to lead the fan club. However, Yolanda assert she only called three times and sent just one letter.

Regardless, Yolanda's persistence paid off. Finally, on July 4, 1992, she officially took on the role of fan club president. meeting Selena in person for the first time that December, Yolanda was thrilled. From that moment on, she stuck close to Selena. She was loyal and supportive, always ready to help with anything Selena needed. So much so, in fact, that by early 1994, Selena trusted her enough to make her not only the director of her boutiques, but also her personal agent. This arrangement granted Yolanda access to Selena's finances. Unfortunately, later that year, trouble began brewing at Selena's boutiques.

Abraham, Selina's father and manager, started receiving complaints from boutique staff. Employees said they were overworked, with many having been let go without warning. As Abraham looked into the matter, he discovered Yolanda had been firing employees without permission from either him or Selena. Despite Abraham's warnings, Selina dismissed his concerns. She believed Yolanda was merely a devoted fan who was doing what she thought best for the business. But by January 1995, the complaints had escalated. Staff, customers, and even Martin Gomez, Selena's costume designer, expressed concerns

about Yolanda's erratic behavior. She was becoming increasingly difficult to work with, quick-tempered, and unable to separate her personal and professional life. Then came the final straw, fans were calling in droves to complain. They'd paid $22 each to join Selena's fan club, but many had received nothing in return, not a signed poster, not even a newsletter. Their money had seemingly vanished, with nothing to show for it. Abraham investigated and discovered something shocking, Yolanda had not only fired employees

without permission and disrespected customers and designers, but she'd also embezzled thousands of dollars from Salina's accounts. She had forged and cashed checks from the fan club and boutique funds, totaling around $30,000. Determined to put a stop to it, on March 9, 1994, Abraham, Selena, and Yolanda sat down to confront the issue. Yolanda denied everything. She claimed she hadn't signed any checks, hadn't fired anyone, and insisted that the fans who complained were just seeking attention. But Abraham had heard enough. He wanted to fire her on the spot, but there was a problem. Yolanda had access to all the family's accounts and confidential documents. One wrong move

could endanger Salina's career. The Quintanillas were stuck in a delicate situation. They needed to cut Yolanda off from the finances, but they didn't want to risk her retaliating with sensitive information. They made the difficult decision to keep her at arm's length while they figured out how to regain control of their accounts. Chris Perez, Salinas' husband, made it abundantly clear what would come next. He revealed how Salina's father, Abraham Quintanilla, had strictly forbidden Yolanda Saldivar from getting anywhere near his daughter, even crying while doing so. The situation had reached a boiling point, and the Keentania family knew they couldn't trust Yolanda anymore. They made the decision to transfer all the funds from the accounts

Yolanda had access to, closing those accounts and consolidating the money into one. This was an attempt to safeguard themselves from any further issues with her. Unfortunately, by the time they acted, much of the money had already disappeared, and when they confronted Yolanda, she denied any involvement. On March 11, 1995, Salina, exhausted by the situation, picked up the phone and tearfully called Yolanda. She told her that she no longer wanted anything to do with her. She demanded that Yolanda returned the bank paperwork, insurance documents, and everything that

belonged to her. Selina was determined to take control of her finances and cut ties with Yolanda once and for all. This, however, was a tipping point for Yolanda. She became obsessed, feeling that without Selena in her life, everything would fall apart. Yolanda believed that if she lost Selena, her life had no meaning. In a moment of desperation, Yolanda went to a gun store and purchased a .38 caliber revolver. Her initial explanation was that she bought the gun for self-defense, and the store clerk seemed to think the same. However, Yolanda later stated that she had purchased the weapon with the

intent to end her own life. Regardless of her reasoning, this marked the beginning of Yolanda's dangerous fixation on Selena. Over the course of the next few weeks, Yolanda attempted to kill Selena multiple times. The first attempt occurred shortly after Selena returned to Texas from a concert in Miami. Yolanda contacted her and, pretending to apologize, asked if they could meet in a public parking lot so she could return the missing documents. Selina, trusting Yolanda once again, agreed to the meeting. However, when she arrived, Yolanda was not only holding the documents but also the revolver. Yolanda showed the gun to Selena as if it were a trophy, claiming she needed it for protection. Selina was frightened and told Yolanda that if she ever needed help, she could

call her instead of carrying a weapon. Yolanda appeared relieved by this reassurance, and Salina trusted her once again, believing that their relationship might return to normal. The next day, Yolanda returned the gun to the store. The second attempt took place shortly after this. Yolanda called Selina again, claiming that there were still some missing documents. She requested another meeting, and Selena, thinking everything was finally resolved, agreed. Yolanda, angered by the situation, went back to the store and bought the same revolver again. She hid it in the glove compartment of her car and arranged to meet Selena at a motel. According to sources, Yolanda's plan was simple, she would shoot Selena, drive off, and escape.

However, someone leaked information and Selena, realizing the danger, arrived prepared, making sure she didn't fall into Yolanda's trap. The third attempt occurred on the morning of March 30, 1995. Yolanda told Selina that she had been raped by an unknown man in Monterey. Claiming to be seriously injured, she asked Selena for help. Selina, though skeptical of Yolanda's truthfulness, agreed to go with her husband, Chris, to check on Yolanda. However, once they arrived at the hotel, Selena noticed that Yolanda seemed perfectly fine,

no injuries, no signs of distress. The meeting ended without incident, but Yolanda's fixation on Selena only deepened. Hours later, Yolanda called again, saying that she was still bleeding and needed help. Selina, exhausted from the lies and manipulations, told Yolanda that she could not go back and that she would take her to the hospital the next day if she was still in pain. This decision would be Selena's last. On March 31st, 1995, Selena got up, dressed, and headed out with Chris to meet Yolanda. They arrived at the days in hotel in Corpus Christi, Texas, where Yolanda was waiting.

She was taken to the hospital, but no doctor could find any signs of the supposed rape she had claimed. This was a tipping point for Selena. She had had enough of the lies and manipulations. She demanded the return of her documents and said she wanted to be rid of Yolanda for good. Once they were back in the hotel, a heated argument ensued. The altercation grew so intense that guests nearby called the front desk to complain about the noise. Then, everything changed. A gunshot rang out, and the are two conflicting versions of what happened next. Yolanda's account is that she and Selena were arguing when she pulled out the revolver, intending to show it to Selena. She claimed

that the gun went off by accident when Selena tried to run away. According to Yolanda, she rushed to help Selena but was unable to find her after leaving the hotel. However, a witness, a housekeeper, gave a different version of events. She described hearing loud arguments and a gunshot before seeing two women running outside the hotel. One, a young woman, was clearly injured, while the other, Yolanda, was following her with a gun. The housekeeper saw Yolanda briefly lower the weapon before going back inside with a towel, likely to cover the gun. The witness account painted a much darker picture, suggesting that Yolanda had no intention of helping Selena, but rather was intent on harming her. The authorities

found Selena, who had run 118 meters in search of help before collapsing in front of the hotel reception. She managed to repeatedly tell the manager, Ruben de Leon, that Yolande was the one who shot her. Despite her critical condition, Salina was rushed to the hospital, but the damage to her artery was too severe. Selina Quintania was declared dead at 105 p.m. from blood loss and cardiac arrest. Yolanda Saldivar was eventually arrested, and her trial began on October 23, 1995. She argued that the shooting was accidental. However, the prosecution pointed out that a .38 caliber revolver requires considerable pressure on the trigger to fire, making Yolanda's claim of an accidental discharge highly implausible.

Moreover, as a nurse, Yolanda should have been aware of the severity of the injury she inflicted, yet she never called 911. Instead, she fled the scene in her vehicle, allegedly looking for Selena. After two hours of deliberation, the jury found Yolanda guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced her to life in prison with the possibility of parole after 30 years. This sentence was the maximum penalty under Texas law, though Yolanda would spend those 30 years in solitary confinement due to threats from Salinas fans. Many have vowed to seek vengeance on Yolonga, even if it means taking matters into their own hands.

As of 2025, Yolanda Saldivar will be eligible for parole, but the question remains, will she ever be safe? Many believe she will never be free from the wrath of Salinas fans. The haunting question also lingers, could Selena's tragic death have been avoided? Would things have turned out differently if Yolanda had been stopped sooner? When she called me that day, her voice was barely a whisper. Mom, what would you say if I told you someone was trying to kill me? I was stunned, frozen.

I took a deep breath and asked her, Tammy, do you really think someone's trying to kill you? She answered with a simple, yes, and it chilled me to my bones. Tammy Lynn Leopard was the kind of girl who lit up a room. She was a magical person, as her family and friends would tell you. Always dressed to the nines, Tammy was lively and happy, ready for her. for any adventure or party that came her way. But overnight, she changed completely, she became someone else, someone guarded, haunted by something terrifying. After making a few strange phone calls, she disappeared without a trace. Born on February 25, 1965, in Rockledge, Florida,

Tammy Lynn was one of two daughters to Linda Curtis, a former model who ran her own talent agency. From birth, Tammy's mother poured her unfulfilled dreams and ambitions into her daughter, hoping Tammy would achieve the stardom she herself had missed out on. Modeling, singing, acting, Tammy's mom envisioned her daughter as a future Hollywood icon. From the age of four, Tammy was already involved in casting calls and professional photoshoots. Beauty pageants were her playground, and by the time she was 16, she'd participated in 300 of them, taking home around 280 crowns. Everyone who knew Tammy said she was close to perfect, a blonde with bright eyes, charismatic,

sweet, and always smiling. Even when she was feeling down, she'd never let anyone see it. If you were sad, she'd go out of her way to cheer you up. Every time we looked at her, we saw a star, a girl destined for greatness. If fate had been kind, she might have been a Hollywood sensation. She had her whole life ahead of her, a promising future. When Tammy turned 15, she decided to move away from commercials and pursue acting more seriously. She began auditioning for movie roles, and her big break came.

with a small part in the 1980 film Little Darling's. Her next role, however, was more substantial. She was cast in Spring Break in 1983, a party film where Tammy bonded with her co-stars and had a great time off set, partying and living life to the fullest. But everything changed at a weekend party after filming rapped. Something happened there, something awful. Tammy saw something, something she should never have seen. She was so shaken by it that she bolted straight home, visibly rattled.

tammie's mother and her best friend, Wing Flanagan, were baffled, desperate to understand what was happening to her, but Tammy refused to open up. She only told them that if she revealed what she knew, their lives could be in danger too. No report was filed, and Tammy was left to fend for herself. It seemed no one wanted to help her. Over the next two weeks, Tammy stayed hold up in her room, paranoid and fearful. She wouldn't drink from an already opened bottle or eat food anyone else had prepared. When the phone rang, she'd make others lie and say she wasn't home.

If someone knocked, she would hide and refuse to answer. Then one day, she got a call that pulled her out of her isolation. It was from the team behind Scarface, offering her a role. Although she would be playing a small part, this was her big chance to be in a high-profile film and to speak on camera. This opportunity could open so many doors, and it seemed too good to pass up. At first, Tammy wanted to decline, fearing that leaving her home might put her life in danger. But her mother encouraged her, saying this role could be her ticket to fame and that she

couldn't let it slip by. The movie was being shot in Miami, which was about two hours from Rockledge. Tammy saw this distance as an insurmountable obstacle. She couldn't imagine being so far from her family and friends, her safety net. But her mom was determined and arranged for Tammy to stay with a family friend, Walter Leibovitz, while filming in Miami. Reluctantly, Tammy agreed to go. But the experience on the Scarface set only worsened her fragile state of mind.

During filming, there was a shootout scene with simulated gunfire, blood, and staged deaths. Watching the scene play out sent Tammy into a spiral of terror, she started screaming uncontrollably, gripped by an intense anxiety attack. Medics had to intervene, but Tammy's reaction was so severe that she was sent home immediately. Back home, Tammy tried to regain control over her life. She went out with friends, took walks, and for a brief period, it seemed like she was returning to her old self. But this was short-lived.

One afternoon, while walking alone, Tammy felt someone following her. She ran all the way home, pounding on the door and calling out for her mother. When no one answered, she panicked, grabbing a baseball bat and breaking a window to get inside. She hid in her room, convinced a killer was on her trail. When her mother and her friend Keith Roberts arrived, they found Tammy in a hysterical state. She even lashed out, scratching, biting, and hitting Keith, unable to calm herself. At this point, Linda Curtis was desperate and out of options. She took Tammy to a psychiatric hospital, where she stayed for a brief 72 hours. Despite her strange behavior, the doctors

didn't find any signs of alcohol or drug abuse, and mentally, she appeared stable. So, after the 72-hour observation period, Tammy was released on July 5, 1983. The following day, July 6, 1983, Keith Roberts invited Tammy for a drive to the beach, hoping the outing might lighten her mood. Tammy wasn't thrilled about it, but she eventually agreed, without her usual meticulous preparations. She threw on whatever clothes she found, grabbed her purse, slipped into a pair of sandals, and headed out. There are two accounts of what happened that day, Keith's and her Aunt Ginger's. Keith claimed they were headed to Cocoa Beach, just 20 minutes away. But on the way, Tammy suddenly asked him to take her to Fort Lauderdale, over two hours away.

Keith refused, and the two got into an argument. Tammy became increasingly agitated and demanded to be let out of the car, right in front of the glass bank in Cocoa Beach. She left her shoes and purse in the car, stepping out barefoot, and Keith drove off, leaving her there alone. That was the last anyone saw of Tammy Lynn Leppert. Witnesses reported seeing Tammy walking barefoot in the July heat, making her way to a nearby by gas station. Supposedly, she called her Aunt Ginger, leaving three increasingly frantic

voicemails. She sounded terrified, almost as if she were running from something. But Ginger wasn't home, and Tammy's messages were lost over time. A friend, Rick Adams, recalls Tammy saying she wanted to disappear to California the night before she vanished. Another witness, an anonymous woman, called the police twice, insisting Tammy had changed her name, studied nursing, and was building a new life, free from the pressures of her mother's ambitions. A second theory points fingers at Keith Roberts. Some people suspect that Tammy might have been pregnant with Keith's child and that he wanted to silence her before anyone else found out.

They think he took advantage of her fragile state and left her stranded or worse. But the evidence here is thin. Tammy did call her aunt after parting ways with Keith, and the police didn't find any real reason to suspect foul play on his part. Another disturbing theory suggests that Tammy fell victim to the infamous serial killer Christopher Wilder, known as the Beauty Queen Killer. Wilder's crimes reportedly began the year after Tammy disappeared, but his victims fit Tammy's profile. Wilder lured young women with promises of photo shoots, burning their trust before tragically ending their lives. Tammy's mother, Linda, mentioned once that Wilder looked familiar, though there's no proof he and Tammy ever crossed paths.

Another potential suspect was John Brennan Crutchley, another serial killer, in Florida who terrorized Brevard County, where Tammy vanished. He kidnapped, tortured, and killed women, earning a chilling reputation. But, just like with Wilder, there was no solid evidence linking him to Tammy's disappearance. Tammy Lynn Leppert's disappearance is a mystery that refuses to let go, a painful reminder of a young life cut short, a star whose light was extinguished far too soon. Once upon a time, in the late 1700s, something strange began to stir in the city of Guadalajara, Halisco, Mexico. This was a time when famine and disease gripped the land. It was around 1785 or 1786, during what many would later call, the year of hunger.

The lack of rain meant the crops failed, leaving the people with nothing to eat. With no work in the fields, unemployment soared, and epidemics followed, claiming the lives of many. It said that over 2,300 people died in a short period, and the cemeteries became so overcrowded that there was no space left to bury the dead. This caused great concern, and it was then that a priest, Fré Antonio Alcalde Ibariga, decided to act. In a bid to ease the crisis, he ordered the construction of a new cemetery adjacent to the San Miguel de Bolin Hospital. At first, this land had been used to bury the poorest patients in a small cemetery known as the Campo Santo de la Convalescentia, but it was clear that more space was needed. The epidemics were relentless, and the number of bodies grew.

In 1797, during a smallpox outbreak, the first common grave was created there. By 1833, a cholera epidemic had hit the city, prompting the creation of a second mass grave. The death toll continued to rise, and in 1850, another cholera outbreak led to the third mass grave. By 1843, construction resumed under the direction of architect Manuel Gomez-Ibarra. Prices for burial plots were established, and the cemetery, now known as the Panteon de Santa Paula, was divided between the wealthy and the poor. The wealthy spared no expense, commissioning elaborate tombs from the finest sculptors and architects. They even hired, plenitoris, professional mourners, to weep at their funerals. The Panteon de Santa Paula operated for 50 years, from 1846 to 1896, until it was closed due to the overwhelming number of graves and the risk of disease from the old, contaminated ground.

On November 1st, 1896, the last burial took place, and the cemetery was shut down. Though the cemetery's official name was Santa Paula, it came to be more commonly known as the Panteon de Boulin, for several reasons. Some say it was because the hospital it was connected to was originally named San Miguel de Boulin. Others suggest it was due to its location on Boulin Street, and some claim it was because the grounds had once been tended by the bellamite monks. Whatever the reason, what mattered most was the eerie atmosphere that surrounded the place and the mysterious stories that began to emerge. The 19th century saw the rise of Romanticism, a literary movement that was particularly drawn to dark and macab tales. As the movement gained popularity, it began to influence the legends that took root in the cemetery. One such tale was that of an enigmatic figure who arrived in Guadalajara during this time.

Some say he came from England, others from Hungary, but most agreed that he went by the name of either Don Pedro or Condé Balder. He was a strange man, antisocial, never attending parties, and always dressed in black. He only ventured out after nightfall, which made people whisper about his true nature. Some believed him to be a wizard or a demon, but it wasn't until the mysterious deaths of animals and young women that the rumors grew darker. Dozens of animals were found drained of blood, and soon after, young women, some poor, some noble, began to turn up dead, also drained of blood.

The locals began to believe that Balder was a vampire, a creature from European folklore that fed on the blood of young women under the cover of night. In a panic, a group of townsmen set out to find the mysterious count. They searched high and low, his house, the bars, even the homes of his neighbors, but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, they tracked him down to the Panteon de Boulin, but it wasn't an ordinary discovery. The scene they stumbled upon was far from what they expected. was found standing over the body of a woman, his back turned.

When he turned around, the crowd saw something horrifying, his lips were covered in blood, and two long fangs were visible between them. Before Balder could flee, the crowd grabbed him and, in a frenzy, one of them grabbed a stick, sharpened it, and drove it through his heart, killing him instantly. They buried him in a deep grave, to ensure he could never rise again. But the story didn't end there. Over time, a strange tree began to grow from his grave, its roots reaching deep into the earth, as if trying to consume the vampire's tomb.

The tree grew bigger and bigger, and soon rumors spread that faces could be seen in its branches, faces that resembled the women balder had killed. People also claimed that if you stabbed the tree, blood would pour from it. Though this was later debunked, the legend lived on. People feared that if the tree ever fell or died, the vampire would rise again, seeking vengeance on those who had condemned him. But this tale was just one of many that surrounded the Pantean de Boulin. Among these stories was the one of Santiago, a young man who lived a hard life, working the

fields to support his sickly mother after his father's death. Despite his struggles, Santiago dreamed of becoming a priest, dedicating his life to God. But when he fell ill and was diagnosed with cancer, there was no hope. With no cure available, his mother tried to comfort him, giving him a picture of his favorite saint. But Santiago became enraged, cursing God for abandoning him. The next day, Santiago was found dead, hanging from the tree next to his window, in the Panteon de Boulin.

The story went that his soul was condemned to forever cast a shadow on the wall of the hospital where he had once stayed. To this day, it is said that even though the tree has been cut down, his shadow still appears on the old hospital wall. As time passed, more strange occurrences and unexplained phenomena were tied to the cemetery. One of the most famous graves is that of Jose Castro, a doctor who died at 29. Known for his selflessness, Castro had helped the poor, offering free medical care. People say that even after his death, his spirit continues to aid the sick, and people still

bring offerings to his grave, hoping for his help. Similarly, there are stories about the graves of a Scottish couple, Joseph Johnston and Jean John, who used their wealth to help the poor. People still visit their graves to ask for good fortune and work opportunities. But perhaps the most visited grave in the Pantean de Bolin is that of Little Nichito, a boy born in 1881. His parents were devastated when he died at the age of one. The boy was terrified of the dark, and his mother would leave a candle burning by his bedside

each night to calm him. One stormy night, the wind blew out the candles and Nichito died of fright. After his burial, the grave began to experience strange occurrences. The boy's coffin would mysteriously be dug up and placed above ground, only to be buried again, time and time again. Eventually, his parents placed a special stone coffin with a crack in it so that sunlight would always shine on his grave. To this day, people bring toys and offerings to Nichito's grave in hopes that he will grant them good luck. However, it is said that if anyone takes something from his grave, Nichito's spirit will chase them until they return it. There are

many other stories of mysterious happenings, strange apparitions, and restless spirits that haunt the Panteon de Boulin. One such tale involves Victoriana Urtato, a woman who was forced to marry a much older man for the sake of her family's wealth. After her parents passed away, her husband and children grew greedy, squandering her fortune on vices. Victoria, who suffered from a rare condition called catalepsy, would often appear dead, only to revive moments later. Her family, tired of her condition, decided to bury her in a hurry. That night, the cemetery watchman heard loud knocks coming from her grave, followed by the sound of a bloodied hand holding a scroll with the words, everything for the poor,

nothing for my children. The curse that followed would cause her greedy children to live out their days in poverty. The Panteon de Boulin is a place of deep mystery, filled with stories of the supernatural, where legends, rumours, and the past all intertwine. The spirits that rest there continue to inspire awe, fear, and fascination among those who dare to visit. Whether it's the restless souls of the departed or the eerie atmosphere that hangs over the grounds, the cemetery remains one of the most haunted and legendary places in Guadalajara. And it must be said that what this woman declared left the entire jury in shock. Laura and Michelle were friends for two years, from 1994 to 1996, and during that time, almost every week,

they would meet to watch movies at John Carlin Three's house. But there was one in particular that Laura could never forget, and that was the last seduction. Let's begin. This story begins on May 2nd, 1996, when a utility vehicle starts driving through the forest of Hope, Alaska. The driver had taken that route thousands of times, driven on the same roads over and over, but had never seen anything like this. On one side of the road, between the leaves and the trees, was the body of a man lying down. The driver, seeing this, stopped the vehicle and approached.

and when he was just a few steps away, he realized the man was dead. When the police arrived on the scene, they encountered three clues that would become very important throughout the investigation. The first piece of evidence was that around the body there were two sets of footprints, one belonging to the victim, and the other to the attacker. Secondly, there was the cause of death, around the body were three bullet casings, three casings from a .44 Desert Eagle. And on the victim's body were three bullet wounds, one in the back, one in the stomach, and one in the head.

Therefore, someone had executed this man. Third, the police had no trouble identifying the victim, since he was carrying all of his identification, his driver's license, wallet, money, and in addition to all that, he also had a receipt for a life insurance policy. Apparently, days before his death, this person had taken out a policy and changed the name of of the beneficiary. Hope is a very small town, a town that in 2010 had just 192 residents. So the police thought it would be easy to find someone who knew something about the crime. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, and the investigation slowly began to go cold.

When police dug deeper into the case, they uncovered one of the most twisted stories imaginable, a story of jealousy, alleged revenge, and conspiracies. Something absolutely unbelievable. So to fully understand it, let's go back two years, specifically to 1994. In 1994, a 22-year-old woman named Michelle Hughes moved to Anchorage, Alaska, to start working at a strip club, specifically, the Great Alaskan Bush Company. This was a club unlike the others. According to some witnesses, it had a certain level of class.

The clientele were usually wealthy, and the girls had to meet certain criteria, they were beautiful, blonde, slim, and most of them were great dancers. According to Laura Pettis, Michelle's co-worker, Michelle wasn't a great dancer, but she was very pretty and very charming. So at some point, Laura advised her that instead of dancing, she could just sit with the customers, talk, and flirt. Michelle decided to give it a try, and the truth is, it went pretty well. Her tips, which had already been decent, started to rise. And in just a few months, she was able to afford the down payment on a house. Time went by, and Michelle was earning more and more money. Clients gave her generous tips,

bought her gifts, and the club paid her quite well. But at some point, she decided she wanted more. Soon after starting at the Great Alaskan, Michelle realized she was earning more from tips than from her salary. So she started thinking about extending her working hours. not to dance more or spend more time at the club, but to take the job home. While working at the club, Michelle met a businessman named Scott Hilk. Scott was captivated by Michelle's beauty, she was pretty, blonde, affectionate, a sweet girl. So every time he traveled to Alaska for business, he stayed at Michelle's house. He bought her jewelry, dresses, coats, everything she asked for.

And at some point, he even gave her an engagement ring. This story might seem straight out of the movie Pretty Woman, but this wasn't the end, it was just the beginning. Michelle Hughes was very ambitious. As mentioned, Scott was a businessman who traveled a lot. And when he wasn't at home with Michelle, she seduced other men. In October, Michelle met a man named Kent Leppink. Kent, 36, had recently moved there.

He came from Michigan and had moved to Alaska because he didn't. heard the fishing was better. A month after meeting, Kent, madly in love, moved in with her and bought her a ring to propose marriage. Scott didn't know about any of this. Michelle told him that Kent was gay. And she told Kent exactly the same thing about Scott. For many months, Michelle maintained this story. She dated two men at the same time, and lied to both. Kent bought her clothes, jewelry, took her on trips. So did Scott. And Michelle was so happy with the situation that she kept the lie going as long as she could. In June of 1995, a new client arrived at the Great Alaskan, and that man was John Carlin 3. John Carlin had a sad story. In 1991,

his wife died of cancer. He and his son, devastated, moved to Alaska to start over. The man couldn't recover no matter how much time passed. So one night, some friends took him to the Great Alaskan, and once there, he fell head over heels for one of the young dancers, Michelle Hughes. In August of 1995, John and Michelle traveled to Europe. And when they returned, Michelle decided to renovate her house. So John used this as an excuse to invite Michelle to move in with him. This is when things really got dark, because Michelle not only accepted, accepted the offer, but so did Kent and Scott. Kent moved impermanently, and Scott visited from time to time. So a new, much more twisted story began. Scott traveled often and

stayed at the house temporarily, and believed that John and Kent had nothing going on with Michelle. Then there was Kent, who was a bit distant and believed absolutely everything Michelle said. And finally, there was John. While all three men had their own ideas in mind, Michelle was was getting everything from them, jewelry, money, clothes, dinners, trips. Her life seemed perfect. But Christmas of 1995 changed everything. Scott supposedly got tired of it all and broke up with Michelle. John didn't know this, but when he noticed Scott no longer came to the house, he pulled out

a ring and proposed to Michelle. Christmas 1995 was total chaos. lost Scott, John proposed, and Kent seemed a little, concerned. Kent began to act uncomfortable. He started demanding more and more attention from Michelle Hughes. This last part couldn't be proven, there are no records confirming Kent was uncomfortable. But what is clear is that in February, he began insisting to Michelle that they get married as soon as possible. He wanted an immediate wedding, to live with her alone, to start a family, he wanted it all, and he wanted it now. To prove he only loved her, he suggested they take out two life insurance policies,

one in his name, and one in hers. In Michelle's policy, Kent would be the sole beneficiary. In Kent's, Michelle would be the beneficiary. At first, Michelle didn't like the idea. But when she saw that Kent's life insurance was valued at $1 million, her expression changed. If Kent died, she would receive a million dollars. That showed he trusted her 100%. So maybe she let herself be swept away a little more. Unfortunately, what she didn't expect was for Kent to start making serious wedding plans, looking at dates, venues, dresses, budgets.

And in April, without consulting her, he called his parents and told them they were getting married. The Lepping family didn't know anything about this girl. They didn't even know Kent had a girl. friend, let alone that he was getting married immediately. So they told him that on the 26th of that same month, they would fly to Alaska to meet Michelle. That's when the real case begins. 24 hours before the Lepinks arrive in Alaska, Michelle disappears. Kent looks for her everywhere, he asks John, the neighbors, John's son, everyone, but Michelle is nowhere to be found. So when his parents arrive on the 26th, he doesn't know what to tell them.

He tells them about Michelle, where he met her, about Scott, about John and his son, and he casually mentions the life insurance policy worth $1 million. That's when Kent's parents panic. A policy like that could cost their son his life. So after discussing it with him, they force him to change the beneficiary. They go to the insurance company, remove Michelle's name, and replace it with their own names, the fathers and the mothers. After that, they keep searching for Michelle, but sadly, they can't find her anywhere.

So finally, on April 30th, the family says goodbye. Kent takes them to the airport. And once there, he hands them a letter detailing his entire story with Michelle, how they met, where, who they lived with. His entire story is in that letter. At first, the Lepinks didn't understand why Kent would write all this, why he'd want to document his entire history. But two days later, specifically on May 2nd, 1996, everything in that letter started to make sense. Because that's when police found Kent Lepping's lifeless body in the forest

of Hope, Alaska. To be continued. On May 2nd, 1996, the entire letter seemed to make sense, because that was when the police found the lifeless body of Kent Lepping in the forest of Hope, Alaska. As I mentioned earlier, Kent's death led the police to believe it was an execution. Kent did not take his own life, and it was definitely not an accident. First, he was shot in the back, then in the stomach, and finally finished off with a shot to the head. The motive for the crime was not robbery, because he still had his wallet, identification, money, and the life insurance document on him. And, if we consider the three bullet casings found at the scene, we know the murder weapon

was a 0.44 caliber desert eagle. If the police could find that weapon, they would immediately find the killer. Everything seemed to point to the killer being his girlfriend, Michelle Hughes, a girl who didn't know that the life insurance beneficiary had been changed. If Kent died, Michelle was supposedly going to receive $1 million. So on Friday, May 3rd, the police went to her residence to find her. Once there, Michelle told a very different story about her relationship, with Kent, one that was not at all what Kent's family had in mind. According to Michelle, Kent was homosexual and they pretended to be together and engaged so his family wouldn't reject him.

Additionally, she repeatedly stated that her real partner, her real fiancé, was Scott Hilk. The police, upon hearing this, were shocked, but they had no evidence against her. No murder weapon, no exact fingerprints at the crime scene, nothing. Plus, the life insurance policy had already changed beneficiaries. So they simply gathered all the information and left. But the next day, the Leppink family received a second-handwritten letter from Kent, a letter that, on the outside, said, open in case something happens to me. This letter was sent by Kent on April 30th, the same day he took his parents to the airport

and gave them the first letter. It's important to say that both letters were very different. The first one told the full story of his relationship with Michelle Hughes. The second one said that if anything happened to him, the blame would lie with John, Michelle, or Scott. Upon reading this, the Leppink family called the police and informed them. The officers once again went to Michelle's house to question her. That's when Michelle presented her alibi. Let's remember that between April 25th and April 30th, Kent could not find Michelle anywhere.

He asked John, his son, the neighbors, nobody had seen her. And the reason for this is that during those days, Michelle was not in Alaska, she was in California. Apparently, Scott wanted to get back together with Michelle and invited her to go with him to Lake Tahoe, a lake located between Nevada and California. Of course, Michelle couldn't say no to such a trip, so she packed her bags and left with him. From April 25th to approximately May 2nd, neither Scott nor Michelle could have killed Kent, because they simply weren't in Alaska. So the only person who could have committed the crime was none other than John Carlin 3. John was a hunter, so he likely had many weapons at home, and among them could have been a .44 caliber desert eagle.

Additionally, police discovered that at the time of the murder, John was indeed in Alaska. So on June 29th, they decided to interrogate him. This man said a thousand things, he admitted being with Michelle, being a hunter, owning many weapons, but he flatly denied having a .44 Desert Eagle. So on July 19th, police searched his home to be sure. They confiscated computers, firearms, and some of Kent's belongings. In that search, they didn't find a Desert Eagle. But they did find a couple of really strange things.

To begin with, Kent Lepping's car was parked right outside John's house. Now, the strange thing isn't that Kent's car was parked there, after all, they lived together. The strange part is that inside the glove compartment was an email that John had supposedly sent to Michelle, and that she responded to, printing it and writing on top of it. In that email, the couple talked about a getaway, a trip they wanted to take to the same. Seychelles Islands. Most importantly, it highlighted that if you went there and paid for a residence, you didn't need a criminal background check. You simply paid and had a house there. And having a house there made it very difficult to extradite you. The second very important piece of evidence found

that John's house was a gun case, one that seemed to match a desert eagle. It was the perfect size for that type of weapon, and it even had an eagle drawn on it. But the weapon itself was nowhere to be found. And a gun case alone didn't prove anything. Years passed, and the three alleged suspects went their separate ways. John moved to Novi with his son. Scott stayed in California. And Michelle moved to Louisiana, where she earned a degree and a master's. In 1998, Michelle married a reputable doctor, Colin Linnehan, and together they brought a daughter into the world. Years continued to pass, and the Linnahan family moved to Olympia, Washington. Once there, they became one of the most respected families around.

Michelle was considered an exceptional person, the perfect wife, the perfect homemaker, the perfect mother. She was perfect at absolutely everything. But in 2004, someone decided to reopen a cold case, the case of Kent Lepping. It seemed like an obvious case, but without the murder weapon or witnesses, police couldn't do anything. That's when a homicide inspector realized a piece of the puzzle was missing. And that piece was John Carlin III's son. At the time of the crime, he was a minor, so he couldn't testify without his father's permission. And obviously, John wouldn't

allow him to speak to the police. But by 2004, John Carlin 4 was an adult. So the police called him to testify. And what he had to say left everyone in shock. According to him, after Kent Lepping's death, his father and Michelle had a strange meeting at the family home. John remembers coming down the stairs and seeing his father and Michelle with a dark gun, arguing about what to do with it. He also remembers that the house reeked of bleach. Now, this might seem like a small thing to some, but the fact that John saw a dark gun and the house smelled like bleach gave the police several clues. Because the Desert Eagle is black, and if bleach was used, it was likely that his father and Michelle had cleaned the gun thoroughly.

So, with this in mind, police got to work searching through newspapers from 1995 and 1996, looking for ads selling desert eagles. They searched for anyone who had sold a point four-four caliber desert eagle between those years, and sure enough, in 1995, a man in Alaska had placed an ad to sell his desert eagle. The seller couldn't identify John Carlin III as the buyer, too many years had passed, and he no longer remembered the face. But he could identify the house, as he had personally delivered the weapon there. With this knowledge, in May 2005, the Alaska police traveled to Washington to interrogate Michelle. But once again, she didn't provide much information.

So on September 28, 2006, after gathering all the evidence, the Alaska grand jury issued two murder indictments, one against John Carlin three and another against Michelle Linehan. John turned himself in on October 2nd, and Michelle on the 4th. From there, both were held in custody until the spring of 2007, when the trial began. The first trial was against John. After presenting the alleged gun case, his son's testimony, the seller's testimony, and the email found in Kent's car, on April 3rd of that year, he was found guilty of first-degree murder. However, convicting Michelle would be more complicated. Unlike John, Michelle had an alibi. At the time of the murder, she wasn't in Alaska but at Lake Tahoe. A simple email about an island getaway didn't prove anything, after all, she hadn't pulled the trigger. And the fact that Kent changed the beneficiary of his life insurance policy eliminated the financial motive. Given all this, the defense focused on presenting Michelle's current image. They wanted the jury. to see that Michelle was now a housewife, had a degree, had a master's, was married to a doctor,

and was raising a daughter. They wanted to show the jury that Michelle had changed, that she was a good person, and had nothing to do with the stripper she once was. The defense worked hard to uphold that image. So the prosecution, seeing their strategy, used it to their advantage. They reminded the jury that the Michelle of today was not the Michelle of 1996. Back then, she seemed only interested in getting more and more money. To prove this, the prosecution called Laura Pettus, Michelle's former co-worker at the Great Alaskan. And it must be said, what this woman revealed left the jury in shock. Laura and Michelle had been friends for two years, from 1994 to 1996, and during that time they would watch movies weekly at John Carlin 3's house.

But there was one movie Laura could never forget, The Last Seduction. It was a about a woman who married a doctor and convinced him to make an almost illegal drug deal, selling pharmaceutical cocaine. He earned $700,000 from the deal. Later, while he was in the shower, she stole the money and fled to a small town, where she met a young man in a bar. She could immediately tell he was naive, and ultimately convinced him to try to kill her husband for the insurance money. How did the movie end? The naive young man ended up in prison, and the woman walked away with all the money. And what was Michelle Linehan's reaction to the film? Laura said, she told me that woman was her hero, and that she wanted to be like her. As you can

see, the prosecution worked hard to remind the jury that the old Michelle was manipulative and money-hungry, and that being that way had shaped the person she had become. In 2008, John Carlin 3 was sentenced to 99 years in prison, and on April 2nd of that same year, Michelle was also sentenced to 99 years. According to the judge, she didn't pull the trigger, but she got John to do it. Still, don't think the case ended there. Michelle's lawyers fought to get her out of prison. And on February 5, 2010, the Alaska Court of Appeals overturned her conviction. Basically, two of the key pieces of evidence didn't hold up. The first was Michelle's comment about the movie The Last Seduction, it didn't prove she planned a murder.

The second was Kent's second letter, in which he accused Michelle of possibly hurting him, also insufficient. So, on December 13, 2011, a judge dismissed the charges against Michelle Linehan, and she was released. So now it's your turn, what do you think of the case? Do you believe Michelle is just as guilty as John? The end. The story begins with a woman named Susan Shurie Hamilton. Born on January 5, 1946, in Oklahoma, Susan grew up in a loving family as one of the daughters

of Camille Karen and Louise Shurie. Those who knew her described her as an incredible person, outgoing, warm, and determined. Whatever Susan set her mind to, she could achieve. At one point in her life, Susan got married and had two children. Her kids spoke highly of her, often saying she always gave her best. Sure, she could be strict at times, but they admitted that her discipline shaped them into the well-rounded individuals they were. Despite her efforts, Susan's first marriage didn't work out. In 1985, she remarried, this time to Dr. John Baxter Hamilton. John was, by all accounts, a charming man.

He was kind, sociable, and just as family-oriented as Susan. Like Susan, he had also been married before and had two children from his previous marriage. Together, Susan and John appeared to be the perfect blended family. Their wedding photos radiated happiness, and their life together seemed like the stuff of fairy tales. From the beginning, their marriage was the envy of everyone around them. John was a successful and wealthy doctor. He showered Susan with luxurious gifts, designer clothes, fine jewelry, exotic vacations, and romantic dinners at fancy restaurants. For their first anniversary, he bought her a Portia.

Every Valentine's Day, without fail, he gave her an enormous bouquet of roses and a heartfelt card. professing his undying love. Their love story was the talk of the neighborhood, women admired John's devotion, and men envied the seemingly perfect life he shared with Susan. But as is often the case, appearances can be deceiving. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the dark side of success. John wasn't just any doctor.

He was one of the most prominent obstetricians in Oklahoma, known for his expertise in pregnancy and childbirth. His practice included procedures that were, and still are, a source of heated debate, abortions. In the late 80s and 90s, this made him a target for anti-abortion activists. Protesters frequently gathered outside his clinic, chanting slogans, holding signs, and harassing patients. It didn't matter why the women were there, whether it was for a routine checkup or something

more serious. To the protesters, anyone who walked into that clinic was an accomplice to murder. The harassment wasn't limited to the clinic. In 1993, a prominent abortion provider in Kansas, Dr. George Tiller, was shot in both arms. Before that, his clinic had been firebombed. By the late 90s, John's clinic had become a similar hotspot for extremist protests. Flyers with John's face labeled murderer were distributed in the area, and some even ended up in the Hamilton's mailbox.

For John and Susan, this wasn't just a professional hazard, it was a threat to their lives. Hashtag hashtag Valentine's Day tragedy. On February 14, 2001, Valentine's Day, John started his day like any other. He had two surgeries scheduled, one at 7 a.m. and another at 9 a.m. He kissed Susan goodbye, promising to be back for lunch. After completing the first surgery, he left the clinic around 8.30 a.m. to surprise Susan with a bouquet of roses and a loving card. He spent about 30 minutes with her before returning to the clinic for his second surgery.

John arrived back at the clinic late, around 9.30 a.m., performed the procedure, and then returned home around noon. But when he walked through the front door, something was off. The house was eerily quiet, and the front door was slightly open. Calling out Susan's name, he got no response. He searched the house frantically, and then he found her. Susan was lying in a pool of blood on the bathroom floor. Around her neck were two neckties, and her head was covered in gruesome wounds. Panicking, John attempted CPR, but it was too late. Susan was gone. Shaking, he called 911.

When the police arrived, they were horrified. The crime scene was one of the most brutal they'd ever encountered. At first glance, they considered the possibility of a botched robbery. But there were no signs of forced entry, and nothing appeared to be missing from the house. Another theory was that Susan had been targeted by an extremist angry at John's work. Her death was violent and filled with rage, possibly a message to shut down the clinic. Despite these theories, there were no immediate suspects.

No neighbors reported seeing anything unusual, and Susan was known to be a kind woman with no enemies. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the investigation begins. John, visibly shaken and covered in Susan's blood, was taken to the police station for questioning. He wasn't considered a suspect at the time, the police just wanted to get a clear picture of the morning's events. He explained his timeline,

surgery at 7 a.m., a visit home from 8.30 to 9, and then back to the clinic for his 9 a.m. surgery. On the surface, his story checked out. However, things started to unravel when police searched the Hamilton home. A housekeeper mentioned that a sculpture, normally displayed on the bathroom counter, was missing. The police speculated that it might have been the murder weapon. If that were the case, it suggested that the killer acted impulsively, using whatever was at hand. As the investigation continued, police found more inconsistencies in John's story. While he claimed to have spent only 30 minutes at home that morning, his delay in returning to the clinic suggested he was actually there for closer to an hour, enough time to commit

the murder and clean up. Then came the forensic evidence. John's car contained traces of blood, particularly on the pedals, steering wheel, and gear shift, indicating he drove away from the scene without fully cleaning up. His shoes, clothes, and even his hands have blood spatter patterns inconsistent with performing CPR. Instead, they matched the kind of spatter that occurs when someone delivers repeated blows to a victim. Hashtag hashtag hashtag a picture of the marriage. Initially, everyone described the Hamilton's as a loving couple. But as investigators dug deeper, cracks began to appear. A close friend revealed that just two weeks before her death, Susan had confided in her about marital troubles. She had discovered that John had made 60 calls in a

single month to a woman named Nina. Suspicious, Susan confronted him, but John denied having an affair. The Valentine's Day card Susan gave John that morning hinted at the tension. Unlike the loving messages of previous years, this one was subdued, asterisk, I bought this two weeks ago, so I guess it doesn't seem appropriate now. But I still love you. Have a good day. Asterisk, further investigation revealed that Nina was a dancer at a nightclub. She denied any romantic involvement with John, claiming their conversations were strictly professional, related to her being his patient. Whether or not that was true, Susan's discovery had shaken their marriage to its core.

Hashtag hashtag hashtag the trial and verdict. When the case went to trial, public opinion was divided. Many of John's patients rallied to his defense, painting him as a compassionate doctor and devoted husband. But the forensic evidence told a different story. Blood spatter on John's shirt and shoes, the missing sculpture, and the the timeline all pointed to his guilt. After a lengthy trial, John Baxter Hamilton was found guilty of second-degree murder. The court ruled that while the crime wasn't premeditated, it was carried out with intent and malice. He was sentenced to life in prison. Every peso we pay in taxes is a vote of approval for our misery to continue. Let us reflect, then, how is it that

by staying silent and allowing things to remain as they are, we show acceptance of mockery, vileness, dishonor, and slavery. Let's begin. On November 4, 2019, 17 members of a Mormon family were attacked while traveling through the Sierra of Sonora, Mexico. The place where they were ambushed was hard to reach, and they were unarmed, unable to defend themselves. It was a deliberate and, according to several sources, well-planned attack. The names of the victims quickly appeared everywhere, on television, radio, in the press. Two points caught public attention. First, the victims were all women and children, unarmed and traveling along the road they knew well. And second, all of the victims belonged to the LeBaron Mormon family, a family with a long and complicated

history. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, commonly known as the Mormon Church, was founded in 1830 by Joseph Smith Jr. This is a rather controversial figure and the source of much to bait, as his followers claim he was a prophet chosen by God to restore the original church of Jesus Christ. Joseph Smith Jr. declared that in 1820 he had what Mormons call the first vision, in which he claimed to see God the Father and Jesus Christ. In 1827, he had a second vision, in which an angel named Moroni showed him a place near his home where ancient writings engraved on golden plates were supposedly hidden. These writings told of Jesus of Nazareth's visit to the ancestors of the indigenous peoples of the Americas. Joseph's mission was to translate the texts

and restore the primitive Christian church. The problem was that the texts were written in Reformed Egyptian. Therefore, John the Baptist and other saints supposedly helped Joseph Smith, Jr. translate them. They also conferred upon him the Aaronic priesthood, also known as the lesser priesthood. Later, Peter, James, and John gave him the Melchizedek priesthood, or higher priesthood. With this knowledge, in 1830 Joseph Smith Jr. published the Book of Mormon, which he claimed was the English translation of the Reformed Egyptian texts. That marked the official founding of the Mormon Church, which follows the teachings of that book along with doctrine and covenants, pearl of great price, and of course, the Bible. This church has some unique

characteristics. They believe that after Jesus' death and resurrection, God sent prophets to earth to spread his word. The church is led by a prophet who serves as president for life. Mormons are prohibited from consuming tobacco, tea, coffee, or alcohol. They practice tithing, giving 10% of their earnings to the church. All members, upon reaching a certain age, are temporarily converted into missionaries, boys aged 18 to 25 serve for two years, and girls aged 19 to 25 serve for 18 months. The church has other noteworthy features, but these are the most highlighted by various sources. On June 27, 1844, Joseph Smith Jr. and his brother Hiram were killed while in jail in Carthage, Illinois. The Mormon congregation entered a crisis. Joseph had supposedly

named his brother as successor in case of death, but now both were dead, and the church had no leader. Two candidates emerged. Many followers believed Joseph's son was the right choice, but he was only 12 years old. Ultimately, after disputes, Brigham Young became the leader. This part of the story is complex. The church split into several branches. But what interests us is that the original church believed in polygamy. They taught that a man with multiple wives had direct access to paradise. This idea wasn't made official until 1852, shocking the U.S. and leading several states to persecute Mormons. It wasn't until 1890 that the Supreme Court officially prohibited polygamy. This is where the LeBaron family enters the picture.

The LeBaron family was founded by Alma Dayer LeBaron, grandson of Benjamin F. Johnson, Joseph Smith Jr.'s private secretary and business associate. Though born in the U.S., Alma eventually moved to Chihuahua, Mexico, to kill. continue his religious formation. There, he met Barbara Bailey, whom he married in 1904. His beliefs gradually became more extreme, so his wife took their child and left him. It's unclear if they divorced, but evidence suggests they did not. In 1910, Alma married another woman, Maud Lucinda McDonald, and had 13 children with her. Here's where things get disturbing, he never divorced his first wife before marrying the second. As a result, Alma and both wives were excommunicated.

The Labarans believed in the original church, so they moved to Colonia Juarez to continue practicing. That began the family's second generation. Alma spent his life seeking church forgiveness, but it never came. Upon his death, two of his sons, Joel and Ervil, founded the church of the firstborn of the fullness of times. Incredibly, the church prospered. and the community thrived by producing nuts. In 1972, Ervil LeBaron created his own church, the Church of the Lamb of God. His practices were controversial, he ordered the deaths of anyone who disagreed with him. His first victim was his brother Joel.

From there, detractors, religious opponents, and personal rivals were killed. His crimes didn't stop at murder. He had 13 wives, many of whom were under 18 when they made. married him. For these crimes, he was imprisoned. Knowing what awaited him, he took his own life in jail. Having seen the origins of this community, let's move to their present. Today, the LeBaron community is in northwestern Chihuahua, and they focus on producing nuts, corn, oats, livestock, and trade. However, it seems they no longer practice polygamy. The new generations believe it's no longer needed to reach paradise. Also, the community is no longer strictly Mormon.

They live alongside agnostics, atheists, and people of various sexual orientations. Many LeBarrans are human rights activists and publicly speak against the insecurity of the region. The area is known for violence and cartel disputes. Cartels kidnap people for ransom. On May 2, 2009, 17-year-old Eric Lebaran was killed. kidnapped. The cartel demanded a $1 million ransom. But the LeBaron family declared they would not pay a single dollar and would secure his release another way. And they did. Eight days later, Eric was freed. However, their public stance, appearing on camera, demanding justice, and denouncing cartels, put a target on them. On July 6th that same year, Benjamin LeBaron, Eric's brother,

and Wilmar Stubbs, his brother-in-law, were kidnapped and killed. This time, no ransom was demanded. They were executed as a warning for the family's activism. But the LeBarrans didn't stop. Some members became public figures. Mexicans, it's time to stop being victims, to stop asking for solutions from those who've shown indifference and incompetence. It's time we take charge of our destiny.

If you are truly our representatives, join this peace movement. Citizens of Mexico and of the world, I appeal to your conscience, we are all responsible, not just criminals or politicians. Every peso we pay in taxes is a vote of approval for our misery to continue.

Let us reflect, by staying silent and allowing things to continue as they are, we accept mockery, vileness, dishonor, and slavery. Julian LeBaron became a peace activist. Alex LeBaron Gonzalez was elected deputy of the Chihuahua Congress and later federal deputy from 2015 to 2018. Due to constant threats, the LeBarrans asked the government for their own police force.

After years of pushing for it, the idea was abandoned. In 2015, 13 officers were assigned to protect them, but the family grew, and that number quickly became insufficient. Local residents complained that the LeBarrans were using too much water for their pecan orchards. And with the family growing, they needed more space, which upset neighbors. Some members relocated to other cities. They also had issues with Wachicoleros, people who sold fuel at higher prices than gas stations. So the Liberans started buying fuel from other cities. All this led to November 4, 2019.

The information from that day is confusing, multiple sources report different timelines. Still, let's try to piece it together. Between 9.30 a.m. and 1 p.m., 17 LeBaron family members left Galena, Chihuahua, heading to Bavisp, Sonora. They were, Christina Marie Langford Johnson, 29, Ronita Maria Miller, 30, Donna Ray Langford, 43, each traveled with their children. Ronita and four of her seven children were on route to the Phoenix airport to meet her husband. Donna and her nine children were going to visit relatives. Christina and her baby were heading home to North Dakota. Around noon, as the convoy reached the state border, an armed group attacked.

The first vehicle hit was Ronidas. A bullet pierced the fuel tank, causing an explosion that killed everyone inside. The second vehicle was Donnas. She and two of her children were shot dead at point-blank range. When Christina reached the ambush site, she hit her baby under a seat and got out to plead for a ceasefire. She raised her hands and told them they were unarmed and only had children. The gunmen opened fire anyway. Chaos broke out.

Somehow, Donna's son Devin Langford bravely hid his siblings in the bushes and walked 15 kilometers alone to LaMora to get help. 18 minutes after the attack, Julian LeBaron, Ronita's father, was alerted and, called the police. A large operation was launched, but the area was hard to access. Police didn't arrive until 5 p.m. After searches and recounts, the final toll was, nine dead, six wounded, one baby unharmed, one missing child, later found eight kilometers away, security secretary Alfonso Darazzo said it was a case of mistaken identity. According to him, a cartel called Loz Jaguars mistook them for rivals. But the LeBaron family believes it was political retaliation.

Julian said that from the attacker's vantage point, they could clearly see who was in the cars. He also found shell casings around his daughter's vehicle, suggesting that the victims were finished off after the initial ambush. It was later confirmed that a video exists, currently held by the FBI, allegedly proving the attack was deliberate. supposedly, it shows 13 or 14 gunmen. After killing Ramida and her kids, they set the vehicle on fire. But the contents of the video are classified. The tragedy gained international attention. Donald Trump tweeted, this is the time for Mexico to let the United States wage war against the drug cartels and wipe them off the face of the earth.

We're just waiting for a call from their new president, Mexican President Andres Manuel Local. Lopez Obrador replied, War is the worst option. We declared war before, and it didn't work. That is not a solution, and now it's your turn. What do you think about this case, and what do you believe is the solution to this problem? The end. It was a chaotic, confusing mess.

Out of nowhere, Cesar admitted he shot everyone. He said they were cannibals, that his family wanted to eat him, and that's why he did what he did. This chilling revelation unraveled on Tuesday, May 23, 23. Lisbeth Dahladay, a 24-year-old young woman, was supposed to show up at the local church that day. Her friends and colleagues were expecting her. She was reliable, responsible, and always on time, so it was strange when she didn't show up. At first, they thought maybe something small had held her up, but as the minutes ticked by and she still didn't arrive, worry started creeping in. They began texting her, but there was no response.

Then they called. Still, nothing. That's when they knew something was seriously wrong. Had she fallen? Was she sick? The possibilities were endless, and none of them felt good. Concerned, Joseph Fielder and his wife decided to drive over to Lisbeth's house to check on her. As they arrived and parked the car, they noticed another family member heading toward the house as well.

After exchanging quick greetings, they all approached the front door together. They rang the doorbell. No answer. They knocked. Still nothing. The house was eerily silent. The Olalde family was large, so the fact that no one was answering was odd, very odd. The three of them felt an unshakable unease.

Finally, they decided to force the door open. Joseph stepped in first, and what he saw stopped him cold. Standing there was 18-year-old Cesar Olalde, holding a gun. The house was silent, yet the air felt heavy, thick with tension. There was no sign of the rest of the family, but something was terribly, terribly wrong. What had happened here? To understand the tragedy that unfolded, we need to take a closer look at the Olale family and their quiet life in Nash, Texas.

Nash is a small town, barely even big enough to be called a city. With just 2,960 residents in 2010 and 3,831 by 2021, it's the kind of place where everyone knows everyone else. People wave at each other in passing, shop at the same handful of stores, and share a sense of community. That's the backdrop for this story, and that's where we find the Olalde family. Originally from Mexico, the Olalde family had built a life for themselves in the United States. Ida Garcia Mendoza and Ruben Olalde Moja, both 46 years old, had come to the U.S. as young adults. Through hard work and determination, they'd made a home in the charming neighborhood of Lemon Acres. The Olalves were known for their warmth and generosity.

Neighbors described them as kind, helpful, and hardworking. They were amazing people. They took care of me and never caused any trouble, said Robert Ward, a neighbor who knew the family well. The couple had four children. Their eldest, Diana Ruby, had already moved out, gotten married, and started her own family. She had four children of her own and ran a small Bakery. Next came Lisbeth, then 18-year-old Cesar, and finally, five-year-old Oliver. Lisbeth was born on September 18, 1998, in Texarkana, Texas. Her social media showed a vibrant, happy, and outgoing young woman who adored her family, especially her older sister. She often shared photos of her sister's baking creations and seemed to cherish every moment with

her loved ones. Lisbeth graduated from Texas High School and later attended Texas A&M University in Texarkana, where she met her fiancée, Jeremiah Reynolds. Their relationship was a beautiful, healthy one. They were best friends, always doing things together, and had big plans for their future. They were set to celebrate their engagement on June 2, 2023. Lisbeth had recently graduated in 2022 and was planning to become a teacher. Some sources say she worked as a church monitor, but others dispute this, leaving that detail unclear. What's undeniable, though, is her positive energy and her deep love for her family. Then there was Cesar. Born on January 8, 2005, in Texarkana, he was more of a mystery. Many of his social media accounts have been deleted,

but even before that, he wasn't very active online. He occasionally posted selfies, but they hinted at a reserved and introverted personality. Interestingly, a piece of schoolwork from when Cesar was in the seventh grade offers some insight into his life. In a project titled, This Is Me, he talked about his family, his love for his Mexican roots, and his appreciation for his parents and siblings. He also shared some of his interests, soccer and video games. While these hobbies seemed typical for a boy his age, one detail stood out. He said he liked video games because they helped him de-stress. That word, stress, caught the attention of some people, leading to speculation about whether he might have been dealing with mental health issues

even as a pre-team. However, there's no concrete evidence to back this up, it's just a the theory. Sazar also mentioned that he was taking advanced placement, AP, classes in high school, which could earn him college credits. He'd planned to attend Southern Arkansas University but wasn't sure what to study. He'd considered medicine but eventually shifted his focus to plumbing, a decision that aligned with the drop in his grades over the years. By all accounts, Sazar was quiet, polite, and well-behaved. Neighbors saw him often with his dad, walking around or working on something. He didn't stand out as someone who would cause trouble. And yet, on that fateful Tuesday, everything changed.

When Joseph Fielder forced the door open, he found himself face to face with Cesar, who was armed and visibly distraught. Acting quickly, Joseph told his wife and the other family member to leave and call 911 while he stayed to try to de-escalate the situation. Joseph spoke calmly, trying to get through to Cesar, who was clearly on edge. The young man's behavior was erratic. He waved the gun around nervously, pointing in at Joseph, then at the ground. Joseph also noticed that Cesar was holding a knife. The house was in disarray.

Blood was everywhere, on the floors, the walls, the bathroom. Spent bullet casings littered the floor, hinting at the horrifying events that had taken place. As Joseph tried to calm him, Cesar blurted out his chilling confession. He said he'd killed his entire family because they were cannibals and wanted to eat him. Whether this was a desperate excuse or a genuine delusion remains unclear, but it was enough to send chills down Joseph's spine. While Joseph kept Sazar talking, his wife made the emergency call. Police arrived at the scene at 10.48 a.m. Sazar refused to come out initially, barricading himself inside. However, officers managed to pass him a phone to communicate with a negotiator.

Over the course of two tense hours, Sazar eventually surrendered. Once he was in custody, Sazar admitted to killing his family but didn't mention. and the cannibalism claim again. This inconsistency has puzzled investigators and fueled speculation. Did he truly believe his family was out to harm him, or was it a momentary excuse for his actions? Some experts suggest he may have experienced a psychotic break, possibly caused by an undiagnosed mental illness. Others believe he was fully aware of what he was doing and concocted the story as a defense mechanism. In the aftermath, the tragedy shook the small community of Nash to its core. The Lalde family was deeply loved, and their loss left a void that would never be filled.

Diana Ruby, the eldest daughter, started a GoFundMe campaign to help cover the funeral expenses for her parents, sister, and youngest brother. Her heartfelt message read, On May 23, 2023, My world changed forever. My entire family was taken from me. My father was a hardworking man, my mother was a caring and loving person, my sister was full of life and dreams, and my little brother was the sweetest, most cheerful kids. This tragedy is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. If my family ever touched your life in any way, please consider helping us during this

unimaginable time. The case made headlines initially, but coverage soon faded. Many questions remain unanswered. Forensic reports revealed that the victims were shot in different parts of the house before their bodies were dragged to the bathroom. The attack was brutal, methodical, and devastating. Experts continue to debate Cesar's mental state. Was he suffering from a psychotic?

episode? Did he genuinely believe his family posed a threat? Or was this a calculated act fueled by something deeper? Some point to his inconsistent statements as evidence of a troubled mind, while others argue it shows an attempt to manipulate the narrative. The tragedy also reignited discussions about gun control mental health in the United States. How did an 18-year-old gain access to a firearm? And could better mental health resources have prevented this from happening? These are questions that haunt the community and beyond. As of now, Cesar O'Lalve remains in custody at a Texarkana jail. His bail is set at $10 million, and he faces four counts of capital murder. His court-appointed lawyer, Jeff Harrelson, has yet to reveal the defense strategy,

but the case is ongoing, with the first hearing scheduled for November 1st. The police have urged anyone with information to come forward. Meanwhile, the town of Nash continues to grapple with the unthinkable loss of a family that meant so much to so many. This case leaves us all asking, could this have been prevented? And how can we stop it from happening again? The story of Nully Yane's Kakaruko Guyan is both tragic and mysterious, involving claims of illness, death, and an alleged curse. Born on February 22, 2004, in Venezuela, Nulli was a lively, cheerful, and devoted young woman. She was loved by her parents, Jose Gomez and Andre Gehan, and was known for her respectful, caring nature. Nully was a teenager who embraced life, loved being

outdoors, and was a diligent student studying at the Licensiato Aranda Technical School in Makisha. Her Facebook posts reflected her commitment to hard work and following her dreams. However, things began to change suddenly in December 2019. Nulli, who had always been healthy and active, started to experience mysterious health issues. On December 23rd, she fainted in Caracas, and her mother rushed her to the hospital. Doctors diagnosed her with synchapy, a condition where someone faints due to a sudden drop in blood pressure. They advised her to rest, as synchapy usually does not require treatment. But this was only the beginning of a terrifying and unexplained health decline. In the following days, Nellie continued to faint and her condition worsened.

By the end of December, she lost the ability to speak, walk, and even eat. Her weight dropped rapidly, and she became weak and unresponsive. Desperate, her parents took her to multiple doctors, but no one could give them a clear answer. Each doctor seemed to have a different diagnosis, and no treatment seemed to help. Frustrated and confused, her family began to explore alternative explanations. Jose Gomez, Nulli's father, recorded a video of his daughter in this critical state and sent it to his godfather, who allegedly had some knowledge of witchcraft. Jose hoped the video would lead to an explanation and possibly a cure.

His godfather, after watching the video, declared that Nully had been cursed and suggested that the family seeks spiritual help. Soon after, the family decided to visit the Maria Lianza cult center in Carabalita, a well-known spiritual site in Venezuela. Contrary to the online rumors, the family did not go to the center for an exorcism. Instead, they took Nully there for a healing ritual, hoping to ease her suffering. The ritual seemed to have a positive effect at first, as Nully appeared to feel calmer and more relaxed. However, by the time they returned home, her condition had worsened again.

She passed away that evening, on January 11, 2020, in the arms of her father. Her sudden illness and death puzzled everyone. Nulli had been a healthy, vibrant young girl, but in a matter of weeks, she went from a happy teenager to someone who could barely function, eventually dying in an apparent state of total decline. The doctors couldn't explain what had happened, which led many to turn to religion, particularly beliefs in witchcraft and curses. Andre Guyon, Nulli's mother, began to piece together what might have caused her daughter's decline.

According to her, Nulli had a close friend named Stephanie Caroline Rodriguez Jimenez, or Carol, who was 19 years old. Carol and Nulli had been inseparable for some time. They would go to the beach, the movies, and spend weekends together. Carol even spent the night at Nulli's house frequently. Despite the closeness of their friendship, Andre had some reservations about Carol. She knew that Carol and her family practiced Santaria, a religion with roots in African traditions, which Andre didn't entirely trust.

In December 2019, something strange occurred. Carol stayed at Nully's house for the weekend as usual. On Monday morning, when Andre returned from work, she noticed that Nully was wearing an unusual bracelet on her left wrist. When asked about it, Nully explained that it was a friendship bracelet that Carol had given her to keep her safe. Andre was immediately concerned when Nully told her that she wasn't allowed to remove it, as it was supposed to protect her. There are two versions of what happened next. One version suggests that Carol and Nulli made a pact of friendship during

their weekend together, and Carol gave Nulli the bracelet as a token of their bond. Another version, which has a much darker tone, claims that the bracelet was not just a friendship bracelet, but a powerful symbol of Santoria. It is believed that Carol initiated Nulli into the religion by giving her the bracelet, a common practice among those who follow Santoria. The bracelet was supposedly meant to protect Nulli from evil spirits, and Carol allegedly told her that she could never remove it. Andre, concerned by the connection to Santoria, immediately removed the bracelet from her daughter's wrist and kept it. Some sources claim she either threw the bracelet away or destroyed it, while André herself

stated that she simply kept it and never saw Carol again. After this, Carol disappeared from Nulli's life. She didn't come around, didn't contact Nully, and gradually, Nalise health deteriorated. She stopped eating, speaking, and walking. She developed spasms and became progressively weaker. Throughout this time, Carol was nowhere to be found. On the afternoon of January 11th, after Nulli's death, Carol showed up at her grandmother's house, asking when the funeral would take place. This raised suspicions among Nulli's family, and they confronted Carol. They recorded the confrontation, and the video soon went viral online. In the video, Carol is visibly nervous and upset, but she does not clearly explain her actions.

Eventually, Nulli's father, Jose, took Carol to the police station, where she allegedly confessed to causing Nalice illness. According to Carol's alleged confession, their friendship had broken down due to a betrayal. Nully had been seeing a boy that Carol liked, and this betrayal angered Carol. In her anger, Carol supposedly consulted some friends who practiced witchcraft. They advised her to perform a ritual known as the dead man's recumbent, a form of black magic in which the soul of a dead person is bound to a living person, causing harm to the victim. Carol allegedly went to Nellie's house when she was away and took some of her personal belongings, including clothing, hair, and saliva.

She then went to a cemetery in La Guayra, Venezuela, and buried the items in a grave. After that, she took soil and bones from the grave and later added them to Nulli's food, causing the slow deterioration of Nulli's health. However, this story raises several questions. If Carol really performed such a ritual, why would she then give Nulli a bracelet of protection? Moreover, it seems unlikely that a bracelet would offer protection against a ritual that was meant to harm. Some have speculated that the bracelet may have been intended to manipulate or control Nulli. The authority's investigation into Nulli's death continues,

but many are convinced that it was not simply a case of illness or poor health. Despite medical explanations that suggest Nully died from complications related to malnutrition and bronchonamonia, those who believe in witchcraft argue that her death was caused by a curse. According to some, the ingestion of cemetery soil and bones introduced harmful bacteria into her system, which contributed to her deteriorating health and eventual death. As for Carol, after her police confession, she was released, as witchcraft is not recognized as a criminal offense under Venezuelan law.

While there is no concrete evidence to prove that the ritual caused Nulles' death, the case remains clouded in mystery. To many, the belief in witchcraft in curses cannot be easily dismissed, and the question of whether Nulles' death was the result of a spell or a tragic illness continues to be debated. What do you think? Could this case have been the result of witchcraft, or was it simply a tragic series of medical complications?

The mystery of Nalise death continues to hold. haunt those who knew her, and the question remains, what really happened to this vibrant young woman? That's when the police start asking questions. What is the girl's name? What was she doing there? Was she alone? Was she accompanied? According to several hotel employees, the girl had checked in the night before with a man, and three witnesses even claimed that the man was none other than. We begin this story on August 31, 1994, in Mexico City with the birth of a girl named Victoria Pamela Salas Martinez. Victoria was the second of three children born to Consuelo Salas Martinez, a single mother. After her birth, Consuelo began a relationship with a man

named Santiago San Pedro Martinez, who from day one treated Victoria and her siblings as his own. According to her loved ones, Victoria was always cheerful and sociable. She loved to dance and always volunteered for school activities. She enjoyed theater, dance, and group projects. However, during high school, she decided she no longer wanted to continue studying. She dropped out one month before the end of the school year and began working. She wanted to earn her own money and help her parents financially, to whom she was very close. The media portrayed Victoria as a party girl who didn't tell her parents anything, an irresponsible girl who couldn't hold a job for long.

The media demonized her for a long time. However, her family denies this entirely. According to her mother, Victoria always told her everything, who she argued with, who she got along with. She shared everything that went through her mind. And yes, she loved dancing and going out with friends, but since dropping out of school, she had only had two jobs, and her employers were always pleased with her because she was hardworking. In 2013, Victoria attended a skating event with some friends

and there she met a guy named Mario Signs. Mario was a professional skater who had won national and international competitions. He owned the store Zarapi Skate Shop and was sponsored by brands like Monster. So, we could say he was a sports star. Mario was a bit older. and already had a son, but these factors didn't initially bother Victoria. She gave him a chance, and they started dating. Victoria had always told her parents she would introduce them to the right man when she found him. However, when she met Mario, she wasn't sure, so she took a while to mention him. Gradually, the relationship became more serious, and she finally told her family she was seeing him.

Like any couple, Victoria and Mario had ups and downs. They broke up and got back together several times. At the beginning of 2017, they broke up again, but reunited in early August. Things seemed to be going well again when August 31st arrived. That day, Victoria turned 23. She decided that after work, she would go home to celebrate with her parents. Throughout the day, she exchanged WhatsApp messages with her mother, telling her that her coworkers had brought her cake and some her happy birthday.

and that she was thrilled. She said she couldn't eat it all alone, so she'd bring it home to share with her mom. Her tone was cheerful, lively, her usual self. However, when the time came, she didn't show up. Around 9.30 or 10 p.m., Consuelo called and asked her where she was. Victoria replied that Mario had picked her up from work and they were going to celebrate her birthday together. She told her not to worry, he would take her home later.

They had plans together, but it was normal for a 23-year-old to want to spend her birthday with her boyfriend, especially since they had recently gotten back together. But the night passed, and Victoria didn't return home. At 11 a.m. the next day, Friday, September 1st, 2017, Consuelo contacted her daughter again, asking if she had gone to work. Victoria replied she had the day off, and that after having breakfast with Mario, she would return home. But hours passed and she didn't appear. Then her stepfather Santiago San Pedro messaged her. Victoria replied again, saying she'd be home soon. But after that, no one could reach her anymore.

On Saturday, September 2nd, Consuelo called her many times, sent messages, but Victoria had vanished. She was now truly worried, this behavior was not like her daughter. She probably considered calling the police, but before she called her police, but before she could, a group of officers knocked on her door. They asked if she was Victoria Pamela Salas Martinez's mother. When she confirmed, they asked her to accompany them to the public prosecutor's office as they had something very important to tell her. Very worried, Consuelo went with them.

Once there, she received the devastating news. Her daughter had been murdered in a hotel room. That Saturday, September 2, 2017, around 3 p.m., staff at Hotel News. Cuevo Coapa in Calzada del Huso, Coyoacan, checked the rooms and noticed room 20 hadn't been vacated. No one had checked out, and it needed to be ready for the next guests. They knocked several times, but no one answered. When they entered, they found the shower running, suggesting someone was inside.

But the person didn't respond. A hotel worker opened the bathroom door and discovered a horrific scene, the lifeless body of a young woman under the stream of hot water. Her skin was red from the water, and she had clear signs of violence, strangulation marks on her neck and puncture wounds from a sharp object. It was so horrific they immediately called the police. A forensic team analyzed the crime scene and determined the woman had been under the hot water for 10 hours, potentially destroying evidence from her body. Police started asking questions again. Who was the girl? What was she doing there?

Was she alone? Multiple hotel employees confirmed she had checked in the night before with a man who appeared to be her boyfriend. Three witnesses identified that man is none other than Mario signs. They also said Mario had come down to the reception several times during the night, asking about the Wi-Fi password, claiming he was having issues. Between 5 and 6 a.m., he left the room, walked past reception, and asked the staff not to wake his girlfriend. On September 4, Victoria's wake was held, and all her loved ones attended, family, friends, neighbors. Among them was Mario's signs himself. Upon seeing him, some people began to confront him,

yelling that he had no right to attend. A heated argument broke out. Someone called the police, and when officers arrived, the conflict escalated. Mario argued with the police too and was arrested for contempt of authority. He was held for several hours and then released. That's when the media began spreading false information, saying Mario had been arrested at the funeral for homicide and then released thanks to his political connections. Allegedly, two weeks later he was arrested again and charged with homicide, but the prosecutor's office lacked evidence, so he was released once more. Reviewing the case, Victoria told her parents she was with Mario. Three hotel employees identified Mario as her companion. Police retrieved CCTV footage from the hotel.

According to the media, the footage clearly showed Victoria and Mario entering the hotel. The media announced that Interpol had been asked to issue a red notice for Mario signs, to prevent him from leaving the country. At that point, Mario spoke out through a YouTube channel called Mafie TV. He sent a series of videos sharing his truth, with witnesses and supposed evidence. He claimed he wasn't a fugitive, just avoiding the media, and that his lawyer was handling everything. He stated he was with Victoria, they drank and celebrated, but around 8 p.m., Victoria got into a car with Arlette Duarte, Mario's ex-employee, and her partner Fernando Fergoso. After that, he said, he didn't see her again.

At 8.23 p.m., he joined his son and two friends, Luis and Santiago. They went home because Mario's roommate Elizabeth called saying the apartment was flooded. There, Mario, his son, Santiago, Luis, Elizabeth, and her friend Anna Ramirez cleaned the apartment. Around 10 p.m., Mario offered to take them out for tacos. While driving, he hit a pothole and got a flat tire. There were two other cars with the same issue. He called for roadside assistance. Anna recorded everything and posted it on Snapchat.

Mario's voice wasn't visible, but his son and Anna were. Later that night, around 11 p.m., Mario and Anna went to the public prosecutor's office to file a report. Anna stayed in the car while Mario went inside. They exchanged messages the whole time. Mario claimed this provided a solid alibi, supported by witnesses and the official complaint. Still, many didn't believe him. Critics called it a joke, accusing him of manipulating justice to portray himself as a victim. On February 1st, 2018, Victoria's family and their lawyers met with the prosecutor. That same month, witnesses provided by Mario, including Arlette and Fernando,

were summoned. Their testimonies were never made public. Later that year, more details emerged. The hotel's cameras weren't working between September 1st and 2nd. Street cameras outside also weren't functioning. No DNA from Mario Signs was found at the crime scene. In February 2019, a judge ordered Mario Signs to be held in pretrial detention. Media outlets reported he had been arrested in a public plaza. However, a video surfaced showing him surrendering voluntarily. He said, it's Saturday, March 30th, 2019.

I don't know how long they'll keep me detained, but I'm going to prove my innocence. They fabricated this show, accusing me of a crime I didn't commit. I'm here to seek justice. Mario was sent to Reclosorio Preventivo Verino Sir in Zochemilco, Mexico. His first hearing was on August 23, 2019. The final deadline for presenting evidence was October 3rd. On September 6th, Mario's lawyer filed for an injunction. but it was denied. A new hearing was set for December 19th, but it was postponed to January 31st, 2020.

It was then decided that the trial would begin on February 4th. As of today, there is still no final verdict. All evidence is under review. Public opinion is divided. Some believe Mario's alibi is airtight and accuse activists like Frida Guerrera of defaming him without proof. Others believe he is guilty, claiming he tampered with evidence, got rid of CCTV footage, and faked his report to the authorities. If found guilty, Mario Signs could face 40 to 60 years in prison. But now it's your turn. What do you think really happened? The end. The story surrounding the mysterious deaths on the small Thai island of Kotow has drawn much attention over the years. A string of tragic and unsettling incidents led many to question what really goes on behind the scenes in this

popular tourist destination, known for its beautiful beaches and vibrant diving culture. The chilling chain of events began with an unsettling conversation. Keep your mouth shut, or your death will look like a suicide, they were told. We know you killed them, you're going to hang tonight, and we'll watch you die. That was the threat, a terrifying warning that led to a desperate escape. Before delving into the specific events, it's crucial to understand the island of Koh Tao itself. Located in the southern part of Thailand, Koh Tao is the small. of the three most famous islands in the Gulf of Thailand, measuring just 21 square kilometers.

Despite its size, the island draws thousands of tourists each year, with more than 100 hotels and resorts catering to them. However, what stands out is that Koh Tao feels more like a destination for tourists than a home for its residents. Back in 2014, the island was home to a population of only 5,000 people, with an additional 5,000 workers from Myanmar, some legal and others not. While tourism has its perks, the island's history is not without its darker moments. Up until 2014, Ko Tau had a surprisingly low crime rate, with only a handful of robberies and fights happening here and there. The island had a mere six police officers at the time, and it had been eight years since there had been a recorded murder. Yet, as some locals would later argue,

things may not have been as peaceful as they seemed. In August 2012, a 32-year-old British man named Ben Harrington and his brother Mark traveled to Cotau to visit a friend working on the island. Upon arrival, their friend arranged for them to stay at a villa on Surrey Beach on the west coast. What was meant to be a relaxing holiday quickly turned into a nightmare. The brothers enjoyed their time, diving, exploring, and partying. However, Ben would become the first victim in a series of mysterious deaths. At 12.30 a.m. on August 30th, 2012, Ben tragically died after an accident. According to the Thai police, the cause was clear.

Ben had rented a motorcycle, gone for a ride, and crashed into a power pole after speeding. It was deemed an accident. However, there were several troubling signs that didn't add up. Ben's watch and wallet were missing, raising suspicions that this may not have been a simple accident. Ben's family pushed for an investigation into his death, and as they demanded answers, the Thai authorities began the process of cremating his body. His family fought to retrieve it, eventually succeeding. After examining the body, a forensic expert stated that there was insufficient evidence

to confirm the cause of death, but he noted that there had clearly been some kind of collision. Despite this, the local authorities showed little interest in conducting a thorough investigation. Ben's mother, Pat Harrington, became determined to get to the bottom of what had happened. She conducted her own investigation, pushing for the truth to come to light. In the years that followed, Pat fought tirelessly to have the incident investigated, demanding information from the Thai authorities, but her efforts were largely ignored. She launched an online petition calling for the UK government to look into the string of mysterious deaths on Koh Tao, suspecting that the island might be hiding darker secrets.

Rumors began to circulate that tourists have been lured into accidents through foul play. Some suggested that cables were being used to trip people off their motorcycles. While no concrete evidence supported these claims, it was hard to ignore the growing number of mysterious deaths on the island. In each case, personal belongings were often found missing, a detail that couldn't be easily overlooked. In 2013, just a year after Ben's death, another mysterious case emerged. The Pearson family, from Derby, UK, decided to spend the new year on Cotow. The family, which included parents Tracy and Graham and their two sons, Nick and Matt, was eager to visit the island, where Matt worked.

On December 31, 2013, they celebrated together, enjoying a night out at the chopper's bar and grill. Later in the evening, Graham walked Nick to his bungalow, said their goodbyes, and returned to his wife. But the next morning, Nick was nowhere to be found. After failing to reach him and with no sign of his whereabouts, a search was launched. Hours later, Nick's lifeless body was found floating in the waters near the hillside resort, directly beneath his bungalow. Thai police quickly concluded that Nick, intoxicated the night before, had climbed out of his window, jumped into the water, and drowned. However, this explanation didn't sit well with the Pearson family.

For one, Nick hadn't been overly drunk. Moreover, the path from his bungalow to the water wasn't straightforward, it involved a small clearing, plants and rocks. Nick's body showed no signs of significant injury, such as broken bones or bruises, that would have been expected if he had jumped from a height. What struck the family even more was the strange condition of Nick's body. It showed no signs of bloating, which would be typical after spending so many hours in the water. In addition, there was dried blood on his face.

If Nick had fallen, injured himself on the rocks, and then been washed into the water, the blood should have been washed away. But this was not the case. The Pearsons insisted that something wasn't right, but Thai authorities closed the case with little investigation, dismissing their concerns. A pathologist later commented that while there were injuries on Nick's body, many appeared to have occurred before his death. This led some to speculate that he might have been attacked, with his body dumped in the water to make it look like an accident. Others believed that Nick's personal connections might have been a factor.

It was known that he had been involved with a Thai woman, and some wondered if this had led to his death. In August 2014, the tragic story continued with the death of 23-year-old British tourist Hannah Victoria Warich, who had traveled to Cotau with three friends. A diligent student and a passionate equestrian, Hannah had been enjoying her time on the island, where she met David Miller, a 24-year-old civil engineering graduate. They quickly became romantically involved, spending several weeks together. Despite their growing bond, they had never been alone, always surrounded by their friends. On September 14, 2014, after a dinner with friends, the two groups split up for the night. Hannah went to a bar with her

friends, while David returned to the hotel. According to surveillance footage, David later returned to the bar to meet Hannah, and by 2.15 a.m., the couple was last seen leaving together. They were never seen alive again. At 5.45 a.m., a. a.m., a. a fisherman stumbled upon a horrific scene on Sari Beach. He found Hannah's lifeless body on the shore and David's body trapped in the rocks, half submerged in the water. Thai authorities were once again quick to rule the deaths as an accident, claiming that the couple had gotten drunk, and in a fit of recklessness, jumped into the water where they tragically drowned. Yet, just like with Nick Pearson's death, there were significant issues with this explanation. Hannah's body had

signs of blunt force trauma to the head, and there were indications of a sexual assault. David, meanwhile, had multiple injuries, and his lungs contained water, suggesting he was unconscious before he drowned. The absence of witnesses and the lack of a thorough investigation led to a growing suspicion that foul play was involved. Despite these alarming details, the police pressed forward with their investigation, revealing surveillance footage that showed three Burmese men riding a motorcycle near the scene of the crime. These men were quickly detained and interrogated. They confessed to attacking David and Hannah, sexually assaulting Hannah before killing her, and ultimately killing David. The confession was suspiciously quick, and the men later

claimed that they had been coerced into confessing under duress, with the police threatening and beating them into submission. As the investigation continued, inconsistencies emerged. The DNA evidence collected at the scene didn't match the accused men, and the key evidence appeared to have been mishandled. It was soon discovered that important pieces of evidence, including blood samples and cigarette butts, had been carelessly discarded or improperly handled. The trial, which lasted only 18 days, was riddled with irregularities. Some evidence was mysteriously lost, and the defense argued that the two Burmese men had been used as scapegoats, framed for a crime they didn't commit. The prosecution, however, maintained that the

men were guilty, and on December 24, 2015, they were sentenced to death. In a surprising twist, the Thai king showed clemency in August 2019 and commuted the sentences of the two men to life imprisonment. Their fate seemed sealed, but the case of Coetal continued to spark controversy. The island's reputation was tarnished, and many began to believe that the deaths were tied to a powerful criminal network that controlled the island, using fear and intimidation to silence anyone who questioned the official story. The case didn't stop there. In November 2014, Swiss tourist Hans Peter Souter, aged 44, vanished without a trace. His body was later found floating in the waters of Talae Nam Beach, and police ruled it an accidental drowning.

However, Souter was an experienced snorkeler, casting doubt on the idea that he had drowned accidentally. In January 2015, another death occurred when Dimitri Poe, a 29-year-old man, was found hanging from a beam in his rental room in what was ruled as suicide. Yet, his death raised questions for his family, who insisted he had no reason to kill himself. The mystery surrounding Cotau grew, as more and more tourists began to question whether they were truly safe on the island. Were these tragic deaths simply accidents or was something darker afoot? Many people, like Ben's mother Pat Harrington, continued their first.

fight for justice, demanding that the Thai authorities fully investigate the incidents and hold those responsible accountable. For those who have visited Ko Tao, the island remains a place of beauty and danger, a place where the shadows of these mysterious deaths loom large over the once idyllic beaches. Before the chaos, Ko Tao, a hidden gem. When you think of Thailand, Ko Tao might not be the first name that pops into your head. Nestled in the Gulf of Thailand, this tiny island spans just 21 square kilometers. By 2014, Ko Tao had been a become a favorite spot for travelers seeking sun, sand, and serenity. It boasted over 100 hotels and resorts, attracting thousands of tourists annually. But beneath the postcard perfect beaches and

vibrant nightlife lurked an unsettling undercurrent. With a local population of only 5,000, the island relied heavily on Burmese workers, 5,000 legally employed and about 2,000 undocumented. It was a melting pot of cultures, but also a hotbed for secrets. Officially, Co. Tao hadn't recorded a murder for eight years. Incidents like petty theft or bar fights were the worst anyone ever heard of. In fact, the island only had six police officers in 2014, a number more fitting for a sleepy village than a bustling tourist hotspot. However, as the stories you'll read suggest, that no murder streak might not have been entirely accurate. A vacation cut short, Ben Harrington. Ben Harrington was a 32-year-old Brit who decided to visit Co Tau in August 2012. Accompanied by his

brother Mark, the trip was supposed to be a carefree escape. A friend who worked on the island arranged a cozy villa for them at Surrey Beach. The brothers dove headfirst into island life, scuba diving, exploring, partying. It was paradise, until tragedy struck. On the night of August 30th, Ben rented a motorbike for a late-night ride. According to the Thai police, he lost control, crashed into an electricity pole, and died instantly. Case closed, right? Well, not quite. When his body was found, his wallet and watch were missing. The Harrington family demanded an investigation, suspecting foul play. But the island authorities were eager to cremate Ben's body, raising red flags for his family.

After a hard-fought battle, they managed to repatriate his remains to the UK, where a forensic expert examined him. The findings? While it was clear Ben had been in an accident, there wasn't enough evidence to definitively rule out other possibilities. His mother, Pat Harrington, has been campaigning tirelessly for answers, even launching a petition on Change.org to urge the UK government to look into mysterious deaths on Kotow. A New Year's nightmare, Nick Pearson, fast forward to December 2013. The Pearson family from Derby, UK, decided to spend New Year's on Kotow, visiting their son Matt, who worked there.

For parents Tracy and Graham and their younger son Nick, it was meant to be a joyful family reunion. On New Year's Eve, they partied at Chopper's Bar and Grill. After midnight, Graham walked 25-year-old Nick back to his bungalow before returning to his wife. The next morning, Nick was nowhere to be found. Hours later, his lifeless body was discovered floating near Hillside Resort, just below his accommodation. Thai authorities quickly ruled at an accidental drowning. They claimed Nick, drunk from the night before, had jumped into the water and drowned. But the Pearsons weren't convinced. For starters, Nick wasn't that intoxicated.

And the path from his bungalow to the water was treacherous, sharp rocks, plants, and obstacles. Yet his body showed no significant injuries consistent with such a fall. Even stranger, his body had dried blood on the face, which shouldn't have been possible after hours in the water. The family pushed for answers, but local police were dismissive, even laughing during their questioning. An autopsy back in the UK revealed multiple pre-death injuries, but nothing conclusive. Rumors swirled online, suggesting Nick had either been attacked by a group of men or had accidentally fallen. The case remains shrouded in mystery. The double murder that shook the

island. By 2014, Ko Tau's reputation took a catastrophic hit. On September 15th, the bodies of 23-year-old Hannah Weithridge and 24-year-old David Miller were discovered on Seri Beach. The brutal scene shocked the island. Hanna had suffered fatal head injuries and signs of assault, while David appeared to have drowned after being beaten unconscious. The small police force was overwhelmed. The crime scene wasn't secured, allowing curious tourists to trample potential evidence. Photos of the victim circulated online, adding to the chaos.

Initial investigations pointed to local mafia involvement, but soon the focus shifted to two Burmese workers, Zalin and Wifio. The pair allegedly confessed underd arrest, claiming they had been tortured by police. Despite glaring inconsistencies in the evidence, including DNA mismatches, the two men were convicted and sentenced to death, a decision that remains controversial. A string of suspicious deaths, the chilling tales don't end there. In November 2014, Swiss tourist Hans Peter Suter vanished. His body was found floating off to lay Nam Beach 10 days later. The cause? An alleged snorkeling accident. His family, however,

disputed this, citing Han's strong swimming skills. In January 2015, Dimitri Povs, a 29-year-old Frenchman, was found hanging in his rental home. Although police ruled that a suicide, unsettling details emerged. Demetri's hands were tied behind his back, an impossible feat for someone planning their own death. The island's dark side, over the years, co-tau has been dubbed Death Island by British tabloids. Allegations of a powerful local mafia, corrupt police, silenced witnesses have fueled speculation. Travelers report feeling unsafe, with some claiming to have been threatened or followed. The body of Dimitri was found with his hands tied behind his back.

Now, if that doesn't scream foul play, what does? But hold on, the local authorities insisted it was a suicide. A suicide, they said. How does someone tie their own hands behind their back and then hang themselves? It's almost like a twisted magic trick gone horribly wrong. The family of Dimitri was understandably furious. They pushed and pushed for answers, but every door they knocked on seemed to lead to another dead end.

The Thai authorities weren't giving them any straight answers, and it seemed like the entire system was set up to dismiss their concerns. Fast forward a few months, and Co-Tal was in the headlines again. This time, it was the disappearance of a Belgian woman named Elise Dalamane. Elise was an adventurous spirit, the kind of person who lived for travel and new experiences. She'd been backpacking across Asia and had decided to spend some time on Cotau. But then, like so many others, she vanished without a trace. She had plans, goals, and dreams, none of which included ending her life in a jungle.

What made Elisa's case even stranger was the evidence found at the scene. Her belongings were scattered around, as if someone had rifled through them in a hurry. Her phone was missing, and there were strange marks on her body that didn't align with the theory of suicide. The authorities shrugged it off, saying it wasn't unusual for animals to leave marks on a body in the jungle. But her family wasn't convinced. Meanwhile, the media back in Europe picked up on the story. The more they dug into the details, the more suspicious everything seemed. Elisa's death was now part of a growing pattern, a chilling series of unexplained deaths and

disappearances on Koh Tao. But let's hit pause for a second and talk about the bigger picture. Co-Tao, the so-called Turtle Island, was supposed to be a paradise. White sandy beaches, turquoise waters, a vibrant diving community, it was every backpacker's dream destination. So why was it becoming a hotspot for tragedy? Some say it's the island's isolation. Despite being a tourist magnet, Co-Tao is still relatively remote.

It's small, with just a few roads and limited police presence. That kind of environment can make it easy for crimes to go unnoticed, or for perpetrating. to disappear into the shadows. Others point to the island's dark underbelly. Behind the picture-perfect façade lies a web of corruption, organized crime, and unchecked power. The so-called island mafia has been whispered about for years. These are the people who, allegedly, control everything, from the local businesses to the law enforcement. If you cross them, you're as good as gone. Of course, the Thai government has always denied these allegations. They insist that Koh Tao is as safe as any other

tourist destination. But the sheer number of unsolved cases tells a different story. Back to the timeline of tragedies, in early 2017, the body of Luke Miller, a British tourist, was found floating in a hotel pool. The official cause of death. An accident. They said he'd hit his head while diving into the pool. But Luke's friends and family weren't convinced. For one thing, the pool wasn't deep enough for diving. And for another, Luke wasn't the reckless type. Then there Here's the case of Christina Annesley, a young British woman who was found dead in her hotel room in 2015. Christina had been traveling solo and was enjoying her time on the island.

Her death was attributed to a mix of alcohol and medication. But her parents raised questions about the thoroughness of the investigation. They felt the Thai authorities were too quick to close the case without exploring other possibilities. And who could forget Valentina Navazanova, a Russian tourist who disappeared in 2017. She was staying in a hostel and was last seen heading out for a snorkeling trip. Her belongings were left untouched in her room, including her passport and diving gear. Despite extensive searches, Valentina was never found. Her case remains one of the many unsolved mysteries of Kotow.

By now, you're probably thinking, how can one island have so many unexplained deaths? That's the million dollar question. Some believe the answer lies in a combination of factors, poor policing, a culture of corruption, the island's transient population. But there's also a psychological aspect to consider. Ko Tao's reputation as a paradise attracts people looking for an escape. They come here to forget their troubles, to live in the moment. For some, that involves taking risks, whether it's drinking too much, diving in dangerous

conditions, or trusting the wrong people. And when things go wrong, the island's lack of infrastructure and resources makes it hard to get help. Still, that doesn't explain the cases where foul play seems obvious. For those, we have to look at the darker side of human nature. Ko Tau's insular community can make it easy for predators to operate unnoticed. And when crimes do occur, the local authorities might not have the training, or the motivation, to investigate thoroughly. So where does that leave us? For the families of the victims, it's a heartbreaking limbo.

They're left with more questions than answers, struggling to make sense of their loved ones' deaths. Many of them have turned to social media and online petitions in their search for just. They've shared their stories, hoping to raise awareness and pressure the authorities to take action. But for the Thai government, these cases are a public relations nightmare. Tourism is a major part of the country's economy, and the last thing they want is for Koh Tao to be seen as Death Island. They've tried to downplay the incidents, emphasizing the millions of tourists who visit Thailand every year without any problems.

But the more they try to sweep these cases under the rug, the more suspicious it looks. As for the rest of us, maybe the best we can do is stay informed. When we travel, it's easy to get caught up in the allure of a place like Kotow. But Paradise isn't always what it seems. Behind the palm trees and postcard perfect beaches, there can be shadows, shadows that hide secrets, dangers, and truths we may never fully uncover. Still, that doesn't mean we should stop exploring. If anything, these stories remind us of the importance of staying vigilant, asking questions,

looking out for one another. Because whether we're on a remote island in Thailand or in our own backyard, safety is something we should never take for granted. The night of Saturday, March 14, 2015, marked the start of an unthinkable nightmare for Caroline's family. Caroline, a bright 14-year-old girl, had gone out for the evening with her best friend. The plan was simple, attend an afternoon disco, then head to her best friend's house for a sleepover. Caroline's mother, Isabel, hesitated when her daughter asked for permission, but after some discussion, she gave in. They agreed Caroline would be back home by noon the following day. When Sunday arrived and noon passed with no sign of Caroline, worry set in.

Isabel called her daughter's phone only to hear the dreaded, unavailable message. Switching to plan B, she contacted Caroline's best friend, Sylvia, who reassured her that Caroline was on her way home. Time crawled on, but Caroline didn't return. Repeated calls to Sylvia yielded the same vague responses, she's coming, don't worry. At one point, Sylvia suggested that maybe something had happened to Caroline on her way back. Alarmed, Isabel didn't hesitate, she went straight to the police and filed a missing person report. The girl behind the disappearance, Caroline Del Viamovilla, affectionately known as Carol, was born on November 21st, 2000. She was the oldest child of Juan Vicente and Isabel and had a younger brother, Kevin.

To those who knew her, Carol was a shy but cheerful girl, full of life and innocence. She loved singing, dancing, and recording herself, often posting pictures and videos on social media. She had a close-knit family, and her mother described their bond as one built on trust and open communication. Everything seemed normal for a typical teenager, but as Caroline stepped into adolescence, changes began to emerge. Around the summer of 2014, Caroline met Sylvia, a girl who quickly became her best.

friend. From then on, the two were inseparable, spending most of their time together. However, Caroline's parents weren't entirely comfortable with Sylvia's influence. In their eyes, Caroline started acting out, she became more rebellious, changed her appearance, and started staying out later than usual. As time went on, her one-stellar school performance took a hit. Her grades dropped, and she began skipping classes. Concerned teachers alerted her parents, who decided to take measures. Caroline wasn't allowed to meet Sylvia during weekdays, and if her grades didn't improve,

they planned to enroll her in a hairdressing course to ensure she had a trade to fall back on. The weekend that changed everything. On the weekend of March 13, 2015, Caroline's parents reluctantly agreed to let her go out again. They believed she was back on the right track and wanted to show trust in her. On Friday, she went to a teen disco called In Time,

and, as planned, returned home the next day. After lunch, she asked her mother for permission to go out again that evening, promising to return as agreed. Caroline's mother was cautious but relented after confirming the arrangements with Sylvia and her father. Caroline sent a voice message to her mother around 9.30 p.m., asking to stay at Sylvia's house again. Though Isabel initially refused, Caroline's persistence paid off. Isabel double-checked with Sylvia and her father, and they assured her everything was fine. With that, Isabel went to bed, trusting her daughter was safe. The next morning, as agreed, Caroline was supposed to be home by noon.

But by midday, she hadn't returned. Isabel called her phone, it was off. She reached out to Sylvia, who repeated the same story, Caroline was on her way. By the evening, however, it was clear that something was terribly wrong. Isabel searched everywhere, called everyone she could think of, and even posted a plea on Facebook for help. Shocking revelations. Through social media, Isabel began to uncover troubling details. Friends said Caroline had been at the disco but later mentioned she had gone to an area called La Zona Hermitica, a hotspot for teens in Sabadell. This area was infamous for its late-night

parties, often involving minors who had run away from home or had criminal records. Isabel received chilling messages, including one from someone claiming that Caroline was in a bad state and in an abandoned house. The information was vague, confusing, and unconfirmed, leaving Isabel in a spiral of despair. She and her husband immediately went to the police, who began investigating Caroline's disappearance. The case was initially handled by the Office of Juvenile Affairs and later escalated to the central unit for missing persons. A tangled web of mysteries, Caroline had been part of a group of about 15 teens that night. Among them were her usual friends and others from more troubling backgrounds, some were known to have criminal

records, while others had fled from foster care or youth detention centers. The group had scattered, making it difficult for authorities to track them down. By March 21st, police had identified 11 of the group members, but the remaining four were still known only by their nicknames. Those who were found were reluctant to talk. Sun couldn't be located, while others refused to cooperate, protected by parents were guardians who didn't want their children involved. The bright girl who lost her way, Caroline's parents couldn't help but wonder how they're vibrant, happy daughter ended up in such a situation. They reflected on the changes they had seen in her over the past year.

While she had always been cheerful and full of energy, her friendship with Sylvia seemed to lead her down a path of rebellion. She had even started associating with individuals who frequented places like Plaza Catalonia, an area known for its sketchy crowd and free Wi-Fi. Through Sylvia, Caroline met others, including a boy named Yassine, who went by Justin, and a girl her age named Nisran. These friendships brought Caroline closer to a world her parents had tried to shield her from. Desperate search for answers, Caroline's case quickly became a media sensation, but progress

was slow. Her family's frustration grew as they felt the investigation wasn't moving fast enough. Authorities cited the complexity of the case, but the Del Valle family felt there were gaps in how the situation was being handled. Meanwhile, Leeds kept pointing back to La Zona Hermitica and the group Caroline had. have been with that night. Police worked to piece together the events, but many of the teens refused to speak. Those who did gave conflicting accounts, further complicating the case. A mother's unyielding fight, Isabel's determination never wavered. She continued to push for answers,

scouring social media and contacting anyone who might know something. The family's heartbreak was compounded by the fact that no one seemed to know, or would admit, what had happened to Caroline. As days turned into weeks, then months, the Del Valle family remained in limbo. Caroline's absence left a void that nothing could fill. Despite the odds, her parents clung to hope, believing that one day, they would find out the truth about what happened that fateful night. The lingering mystery, Caroline's disappearance remains one of Spain's most haunting cases. It's a reminder of how quickly a life can take a turn, and how difficult it can be to uncover the truth when silence and secrecy cloud the facts.

Her story continues to resonate, a painful yet powerful example of the importance of vigilance, open communication, and never giving up hope. The disappearance of Caroline, it all began with a group of teenagers, each tied to the mysterious disappearance of a fourteen-year-old girl named Caroline. The authorities wanted to question them, but getting information out of them was like squeezing water from a rock. Some couldn't even be found, while others were located but remained tight-lipped. Their parents and guardians, too, refused to cooperate.

And since most of them were minors, legally, they didn't have to testify. But let's rewind to the start of this heartbreaking story. It was Saturday, March 14, 2015. Caroline, a bright and lively 14-year-old, decided to go out with her best friend, Sylvia. The plan was to hit an afternoon party at a local club. Later that evening, she called her mom to ask for permission to stay the night at Sylvia's house. After a little back and forth, her mom reluctantly agreed. They settled on the condition that Caroline would return home by noon the following day.

Noon came and went. Caroline was nowhere to be found. Her mom, worried but not panicking just yet, tried calling her. Straight to voicemail. Then she called Sylvia, who reassured her, she's on her way, don't worry. Hours passed. Caroline still didn't show up. Her mom called again, and Sylvia repeated.

repeated, she's coming. Everything's fine. She spent the night at my house, but as time dragged on, the story took a strange turn. Sylvia suddenly said, maybe something happened to her on the way home. That was the moment panic really set in. Caroline's mom, desperate and terrified, went straight to the police station to report her daughter missing. Who was Caroline? Caroline Del Viamovilla, affectionately called Carol, was born on November 21, 2000. She was the eldest child of Juan Vicente and Isabel, and had a younger brother named Kevin. Carol was your typical teenager, bright, full of life, and always dancing, singing, and snapping selfies.

She was shy by nature, sometimes even a little fearful, but she'd never given her parents any real trouble. Her family meant everything to her. She was incredibly close to her mom, dad, and little brother. People described her as innocent and sweet, someone who could light up any room. But that innocence came with a downside, she was easily influenced, which, as you'll see, played a big role in the events that unfolded. Carol, like most teens, was active on social media, Facebook and Ask.fm were her go-to platforms.

One of her responses on Ask.fm stood out, when asked what mattered most of her, she wrote, My family and my best friend, Sylvia. Sylvia and Caroline had only been friends for about ten months. They met during the summer of 2014 and quickly became inseparable. They slept over at each other's houses, and their parents even had each other's phone numbers. Carol always spoke highly of Sylvia, but her parents had their reservations. And for good reason. A friendship that changed everything, after becoming friends with Sylvia, Carol began to change.

She started acting out, dressing differently, and wearing makeup. At just 14, she was trying to look much older than she was. But the physical changes weren't what worried her parents most. It was her new behavior. Sylvia introduced Carol to a whole new social circle. They started hanging out at Plaza Cataluna in Barcelona, specifically near the Apple store, a popular meeting spot for teenagers. But this wasn't your average hangout.

The area attracted all kinds of trouble, pickpockets, fights, and even teens who'd run away from home or escaped juvenile centers. Through Sylvia, Carol became friends with some sketchy people, like a girl named Nisrin and a boy who went by the nickname Justin. These new friendships concerned her parents, but Carol didn't see the danger. Her grades began to slip, and she started skipping classes. Teachers noticed and alerted her parents, who decided it was time to step in. They made two rules.

Carol couldn't hang out with Sylvia during the week unless her school performance improved. If her grades didn't go back up, they'd enroll her in a hairdressing course. Despite their efforts, Carol continued to rebel. Her parents didn't know how much trouble she was really in. A troubling incident, two months before her disappearance, Carol's clean record took a hit. She was hanging out with her new friends in a plaza when the police showed up and arrested everyone. The group was accused of assaulting and robbing another teenager.

Carol insisted she had nothing to do with it, but her name still ended up on a police report. Her parents grounded her, hoping the punishment would straighten her out. For a while, it seemed to work. Carol started acting like her old self again. She distanced herself from Sylvia, focused on her studies, and gained back her parents' trust. But then came Friday, March 13, 2015. The weekend that changed everything, that Friday, Carol convinced her mom to let her go to an afternoon party at the club in Plaza Urquina, followed by a sleepover at Sylvia's house.

Her mom, Isabel, called Sylvia's father to confirm the plan. Everyone agreed Carol would be safe and back home by noon the next day. Saturday morning came, and Carol returned home as promised, accompanied by Sylvia. They had lunch with the family, and everything seemed fine. But later that afternoon, Carol asked for permission to go out again. She promised to be home on time. Reluctantly, her mom agreed. That night, at 9.30 p.m., Carol sent her mom two voice messages asking to stay another night

at Sylvia's house. Please, Mom, let me stay. Sylvia says it's fine, she pleaded. Initially, Isabel said no. Two nights out in a row was too much. But after some convincing, and a call to Sylvia's dad to confirm, she gave in. Isabel thought everything was under control. She went to bed, not knowing this would be the last time she'd hear from her daughter.

The disappearance. Sunday, March 15, 2015. Noon came and went, but Carol didn't return home. Isabel tried calling her, but the phone was off. She called Sylvia, who said, she's on her way. Hours passed. Carol still didn't show up. Isabel called again, and Sylvia's story started to change.

She left my house earlier, Sylvia claimed, but maybe something happened to her on the way home. By evening, Isabel was frantic. She searched everywhere, out the window, in the street, even asking neighbors if they'd seen her daughter. But Carol was gone. At 7 p.m., Isabel called Sylvia again. This time, Sylvia said she hadn't seen Carol since 5 p.m. Nothing added up. Desperate, Isabel turned to Facebook.

She posted a status asking if anyone had seen her daughter. What happened next only made things more confusing. Bizarre clues, Isabel started getting messages from Carol's friends. Some said they'd seen her at the club the night before. Others claimed she'd been at a place called Zona Hermitica in Sabovel, a notorious spot for late-night partying. Then came the strangest message of all. One of Carol's friends received an anonymous call. The voice on the other end said Carol was in a bad state, hidden in an abandoned house,

and warned them to stop looking for her. Isabelle didn't know what to believe. The stories were contradictory, chaotic, and terrifying. With no clear answers, Isabel and her husband went to the police again to report their daughter's disappearance. The investigation, the police began their search but quickly hit a wall. Many of the teens Carol had been with that night refused to talk. Some couldn't be found at all.

Others, like Sylvia, gave conflicting statements. Rumors swirled about what might have happened to Carol. Some said she'd gotten into a fight. Others speculated she'd run away. The most chilling theory was that she'd been harmed and left in the Zona Hermetica. As days turned into weeks, Carol's family refused to give up hope. They plastered her face on missing person posters, held vigils, and banged. the public for information.

But the more they searched, the more questions arose. Who was responsible? One person of interest was Sylvia. Her inconsistent stories made her a key figure in the investigation. But as a minor, she wasn't legally obligated to cooperate. Her parents also shielded her from the authorities. The boy known as Justin was another suspect. He was rumored to have been at the party that night and was part of the same sketchy crowd

Carol had fallen in with. But despite numerous leads, no one was ever charged. A family's endless nightmare, nine years later, Carol's disappearance remains a mystery. Her family continues to search for answers, clinging to the hope that one day, they'll find out what happened to their beloved daughter. The case of Caroline Del Viomo Villa is a tragic reminder of how quickly life can change and how vulnerable young people can be to the wrong influences. Through online searches, the authorities attempted to identify the real names behind the aliases of the individual. involved. By March 21st, they had managed to track down 11 of them. However, four names remained elusive, only existing as nicknames. Once the police identified these individuals,

they tried to locate and interrogate them. This was easier said than done. Some of them couldn't be found, others were located, but their parents or guardians refused to let them speak. Legally, since these were minors, they weren't obligated to testify, and the police couldn't compel them. Even Caroline's supposed best friends, Sylvia and Nisrin, didn't offer much help. Justin, however, broke his silence and provided a chilling version of the events that transpired on the night of Saturday, March 14th. Justin recounted that the group was enjoying themselves, as teenagers do, when around 9.30 p.m., someone suggested heading to a restricted area. Now, many people have asked why Caroline would agree to go there. To understand this, we have three versions of the story.

Three versions of why Caroline went to the restricted zone. The first version comes from Sylvia's aunt, who claimed that Nisran practically forced them to go that night. The second version is from Sylvia herself, who admitted that Nisran convinced Caroline to go, and Sylvia only tagged along to ensure Caroline wasn't alone. The third version, from Nisran, denies all involvement. She recently stated on social media that Sylvia and Caroline invited themselves to her plans. According to her, she already had plans to go to Sabat, and the other girls simply wanted to join. The night in Sabat, according to Justin's account, the group took public transportation from

Barcelona to Sabat. Upon arriving, they attempted to enter the Bora Bora nightclub, but since they were minors, they were denied entry. The group decided to stay near the club, hanging out in an open field. They started drinking, engaging in what's colloquially called a botelan, a common activity where people drink outdoors. Justin noted some peculiar occurrences that night. At one point, Sylvia disappeared, and Caroline broke down crying, asking everyone where Sylvia

was. Caroline, being the responsible one in the group, was particularly cautious. She often kept an eye on her friends, making sure they didn't drink too much or get into trouble. When Sylvia reappeared, Caroline calmed down, but her distress was evident. The Moso incident, as the night went on, two police cars from the Moso's D. S. Quadra showed up, causing panic among the group. Many of them had records, including Justin, who was on the run and didn't want to get caught. When the police arrived, chaos

erupted. Justin took off running, and Caroline followed him. After running for about 200 to 300 meters, Caroline yelled that she couldn't keep going. She was tired and out of breath. Justin, however, couldn't stop. He instructed Caroline to hide under a car and promised to come back for her. Justin's version continued with him hiding near the Castel de Canfu, a nearby castle. He climbed over a fence, getting scratches in the process. Once inside, he found a hiding spot and stayed there for 20 to 30 minutes. When he emerged, he was covered in mud, so he turned his sweater inside out and made his way to the agreed meeting point at Sand Station, taking about an hour and a half to get there. Upon arrival, Justin asked the group about Caroline. Nobody knew

where she was. Justin assumed she had been caught by the police, but calls to local stations in Saba and Barcelona confirmed that Caroline hadn't been arrested. This left a haunting question, what had really happened to her? The police's hypothesis, Justin's story didn't sit well with investigators. Firstly, they found it odd that Justin went radio silent during his disappearance for over an hour and a half, no calls, no messages, nothing. Secondly, they doubted that a healthy 14-year-old like Caroline would be completely exhausted after running just 200 meters. And finally, Justin's reappearance raised questions. The police proposed their first and, to this day, only official hypothesis,

Justin and Caroline hid together at the castle, and while there, something happened. The police suspected that Justin might have harmed Caroline, potentially killing her, and then disposed of her body. This marked the beginning of an investigation plagued with missteps. A chaotic investigation, it took the authorities and unreasonably long time to bring in canine units to search the castle. When they finally did, they found no trace of Caroline. This led them to a second hypothesis, Justin could have disposed of her body in a garbage container. If this was the case, the body would have been

taken by a garbage truck and processed at a recycling plant, where industrial shredders would have made it nearly impossible to recover any remains. Caroline's mother, Isabel Movilla, demanded that the police searched the recycling plant. However, authorities claimed it was too expensive and deemed it unnecessary, insisting that the body would be unrecoverable. Undeterred, Isabel took matters into her own hands, contacting the plant herself. The response she received gave her hope, the plant's processes involved cameras and sorting belts, making it highly unlikely for a body to go unnoticed. A mother's relentless fight, Isabel retraced Justin's route on the night Caroline disappeared. To her, his timeline made sense,

everything checked out. Despite his suspicious behavior, Justin offered Isabel Isabelle his full support, expressing regret for not doing more for Caroline that night. Yet, Isabel's independent investigation was met with a slew of challenges. People claiming to have information about Caroline either led her on wild goose chases or outright lied. The stalemate, by June 14, 2015, a public demonstration was held to raise awareness about Caroline's disappearance. Although the case gained attention, progress stalled. Isabel appeared on television programs, pleading for justice and sharing her daughter.

her story. But the system seemed indifferent. Basic investigative steps, like searching Caroline's room or examining her online activity, were neglected. Isabel had to hand over Caroline's computer herself, in 2018, three years after her disappearance. Meanwhile, rumors began circulating, fueled by Caroline's so-called friends. One even suggested on social media that Caroline's case was a homicide, citing no evidence beyond what they'd seen on TV. Another post-implied Caroline had run away, even though those who knew her described her as deeply attached to her family. New information and the Audi Red Hypothesis. In January 2016, after a prolonged investigation, Caroline's case file was finally made available to her family's lawyer. The documents suggested

a possible homicide with the concealment of the body. Justin added a new detail, on the night of the incident, a red Audi with French plates arrived at the scene. Inside were three well-dressed men, none of whom the group had ever met, except for Nisran, who appeared to know them. These men offered free alcohol and played music for the teens. Caroline grew suspicious and warned her friends not to drink what they were given, but her advice was ignored. The men's behavior became increasingly unsettling, especially their focus on Caroline. By 5.30 a.m., chaos broke out, and Caroline was last seen calling Nisran around 6 a.m., a call that went unanswered.

Where the truth lies, this new information pointed to a second high. hypothesis, Caroline might have been lured into the Red Audi. Perhaps they offered her a ride home, and without other options, she accepted. Tragically, it's believed she was never taken to her destination. Despite the emergence of this theory, the authorities dismissed it, claiming it was fabricated. They maintained their original stance, pinning suspicion on Justin in closing the case in 2017. It was reopened in 2018 but failed to yield any results before being archived again. The fight continues. To this day, Caroline's family believes she may have been trafficked to France, where border checks are minimal. The theory aligns with a grim reality,

young, vulnerable girls like Caroline are often targeted by traffickers. Yet, without solid evidence, her case remains unsolved. Now, the question remains, will the truth about Caroline's fate ever come to light? My daughter hadn't returned home, and then I got a message saying Carol was in an abandoned house, far away and in terrible condition. I rushed out to report her missing. The investigation started at the Child Welfare Office, but was later transferred to the Central Missing Persons Unit. When it finally reached the hands of the Mossos Dia Squadra, it felt like everything froze. The official version claims that the officers realized from the start that things were not as they seemed, which is why the case couldn't progress. But as we dig

deeper, some points don't quite add up. The group Caroline went out with that Saturday night included 15 minors. Some were classmates and long-time friends, but others were individuals with sketchy backgrounds, runaways and teens with records. Tracking everyone down was a monumental challenge. Authorities scoured the internet for real names, and by March 21st, they managed to locate 11 of them. However, for remained identified only by nicknames. Even with this partial breakthrough, questioning them proved fruitless. Some couldn't be found. Others' parents or guardians refused to let them talk. Since they were minors, they weren't obligated to testify. Caroline's best friends, Sylvia and Misran, were no help either. However, Justin, another member

of the group, shared a chilling version of events. On Saturday, March 14th, the group met up and had fun. At around 9.30 p.m., someone suggested heading to a remote area known as the Zona Hermetica. Many have wondered why Caroline would go there. To piece it together, there are three different accounts, Sylvia's aunt claimed that Nisran practically pressured them into going that night. Sylvia herself admitted that Nisran convinced Caroline to go, and Sylvia went along to not leave Caroline alone. Nisrin, in recent social media posts, denied any involvement. She said that Sylvia and Caroline tagged along with her to Zona Hermitica, where she already had plans. Based on Justin's account, the group took public transportation from Barcelona to

Sabavel. Once there, they attempted to enter a nightclub called Borough. But they were denied entry because they were underage. Instead, they stayed near the club in a vacant lot and started drinking. According to Justin, a few notable events occurred that night. At one point, Sylvia disappeared, and Caroline became distraught, crying and asking everyone where Sylvia was. When Sylvia finally reappeared, Caroline calmed down. Justin also mentioned that Caroline was typically the responsible one in the group.

She would look out for her friends, making sure they didn't drink too much or get into trouble. She was cautious. Later, two police cars from the Mossos arrived, triggering panic among the group. Many of them, including Justin, had records. Justin, who was wanted by the police, bolted immediately, and Caroline followed him. After running about 200 to 300 meters, Caroline began shouting his name, saying she couldn't run anymore and was too tired. But Justin couldn't stop, if he did, he'd get caught. He told her to hide under a car and promised to come back back for her. I had to think about myself, Justin admitted.

I didn't want to get caught, so I just kept running. Justin claims he hid in the Castel de Canfu, a nearby castle. To get in, he scaled a fence, injuring himself in the process. He hid in a hole for twenty to thirty minutes, covered in mud, before leaving and heading to Sant Station, a common meeting spot for the group after police raids. It took him about an hour and a half to get there. When he arrived, he asked the others where Caroline was, but no one near. He assumed she had been detained by the police.

Caroline's mother, Isabel, called every police station in Sabovel and Barcelona, but all confirmed they hadn't arrested Caroline. This suggested something much worse had happened. To the Mossos, Justin's story didn't add up. Why didn't he contact anyone during the two hours he was missing? How could a healthy 14-year-old get exhausted after running just 200 meters? And why did Justin's story conveniently end when he claimed he assumed she'd been arrested? This led to the first hypothesis, and the only one the police officially consider plausible

to this day. They theorized that Justin and Caroline hit together in the castle. Once there, something happened. Perhaps he attacked her, killed her, and disposed of her body. However, when investigators finally brought canine units to the castle, they found no trace of Caroline. This led to another theory, Justin might have killed her and thrown her body into a garbage bin.

The body could have been crushed by the garbage truck and rendered untraceable at the recycling plant. When Isabel demanded they searched the plant, police refused, citing costs and that impossibility of finding anything. Frustrated, Isabel decided to investigate on her own. She retraced Justin's steps the night of the incident and found his timeline plausible. Everything he described, hiding in the castle, staying there for 20 to 30 minutes, and heading to Sance, lined up perfectly. Justin even helped Isabelle, expressing regret for

leaving Caroline behind that night. However, Isabel's independent investigation uncovered darker truths. Supposed friends of Caroline started giving her false leads. Some claimed she was being held in an abandoned house, others said she was with a man named Alex in Mataro, and some even said she'd been seen around Barcelona. None of these leads went anywhere. Worse, Isabel began receiving threats. On June 14, 2015, a march was held to support the family in raise awareness about Caroline's case. It brought attention to the situation but didn't lead to any breakthroughs. Isabel appeared on TV and shared her story, hoping to garner empathy and international attention. Despite her efforts, the police seemed indifferent. They didn't

search Caroline's room, check her social media, or investigate her daily routines. Isabel had to hand over Caroline's computer herself in 2018, three years after her disappearance. Meanwhile, Caroline's so-called friends started spreading rumors online. One of them wrote on Ask.fm that it was a homicide, claiming she'd seen it on TV. Others suggested Caroline had run away and was seen laughing and hiding in the metro. These rumors painted Caroline as a runaway, despite her being a deeply family-oriented girl who cried when Sylvia disappeared for just a few minutes that night. The idea that she'd voluntarily run away didn't make sense.

In January 2016, the secrecy surrounding the case file was lifted. Caroline's family lawyer, Vanessa Gonzalez, discovered that the police were considering homicide with body concealment. She requested a confrontation between all the minors present that night, but the court denied the request. Justin also shared new details, saying that a red Audi had arrived at the vacant lot that night, carrying three well-dressed men no one recognized. These men, who appeared to be Nisran's friends, handed out alcohol and played music, acting suspiciously generous. Caroline was wary, warning her friends not to drink anything from them. But the others didn't listen.

According to witnesses, these men acted strangely, getting uncomfortably close to the girls. Justin noticed they paid particular attention to Caroline. Around 5.30 a.m., when the police arrived and a group scattered, Caroline disappeared. The last known action from her was a phone call to Nisran at around 6.6. a.m., which went unanswered. Many found it odd that she called Nisran and not Sylvia, her best friend. This detail fueled the theory that Nisran and her associates in the Red Audi might have been involved. The second hypothesis suggests that Caroline, having no money in being lost, accepted a ride from the men in the Audi. Unfortunately, they never took her home.

This theory gained traction after the documentary Desa Pericidos aired in 2018, revealing testimonies about the Red Audi and the three men. However, authorities dismissed these new accounts, claiming the witnesses were likely paid to fabricate their stories. To this day, the Mossos D.S. Squadra maintained that the only plausible explanation is that Justin killed Caroline and disposed of her body. Meanwhile, the family believed she was likely abducted and trafficked. They suspect she may have been taken to France, where border controls are minimal, and no international alert was issued at the time of her disappearance. Caroline fit the profile of a trafficking victim, young, slim, and attractive.

Isabel and her family continue to search for answers, clinging to hope that one day they'll uncover the truth. What do you think happened to Caroline? Do you believe we'll ever find out the truth? Let me tell you a story that's as strange as it is unsettling, about a 17-year-old girl named Sayaka Nakagawa. Her story is packed with twists, mystery, and unanswered questions, the kind of thing that'll make you scratch your head and wonder what on earth actually happened. Sayaka was just a regular teenager from Mawberra, in Chiba Prefecture, Japan. Well, regular isn't exactly the right word. For starters, she was the third of four siblings and had a twin,

so you can imagine her family life was busy and full of shared responsibilities. Growing up in such a big family, she learned to be generous and thoughtful. Siyaka was described by neighbors as polite, responsible, and reserved. But here's where things start to get a little unusual, her family was part of a very secretive religious group called the Unification Church, also known as the Munis. Yep, that's right, the infamous religious sect known for its strict rules and tight control over its members' lives. And this little detail. It'll come up again later, trust me. Now, as far as anyone could tell, Siyaka had a pretty solid life.

She was a good student at Masaki High School, which was about an hour away by train. Every morning, she followed the same routine, wake up early, get dressed, eat breakfast, pack her bag, and hop on the train. She was punctual, well-behaved, and a good student, not top of her class, but definitely not struggling either. Her teachers had no complaints, and she seemed to enjoy her studies. In fact, she had a passion for agriculture and gardening. She loved plants, flowers, and being out in nature. After classes, she'd often head to the school's small garden to tend to the plants. On the surface, Sayaka seemed happy and content.

But then, one day, she vanished. And that's when everything got weird. It was July 11, 2013, and the day started out completely normal. Sayaka woke up, got ready, and took the train to school. Her teachers later reported that she acted like her usual self, attentive in class, sociable with her classmates, and even excited about the ripe tomatoes in the school's garden. She packed some of those tomatoes into a bag and said goodbye to a friend before heading to the train station at around 2 p.m. Surveillance cameras at the station captured her

boarding a train that would take her to Ono Station, just two kilometers from her house. The footage showed her walking calmly, still carrying her bag in the tomatoes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But here's the thing, after that, Siyaka just disappeared. Poof. Gone. She never made it home. By 4 p.m., when she should have been ringing the doorbell, her parents started to worry. They called her phone, once, twice, three times. No answer. They even got her siblings to try contacting her, but nothing. And here's where the story takes an odd turn, instead of calling the police right away, her family decided to wait. The next morning, they called her school to say she wouldn't be attending classes but didn't mention she

was missing. Yep, you heard that right. They didn't ask for help or share their concerns, just a casual, she won't be in today. It wasn't until the afternoon of July 13th, two whole days after Sayaka vanished, that her family finally contacted the police. By then, a lot of valuable time had already been lost. If Syaka had been kidnapped, her abductors could have easily left the country. If something worse had happened, well, the trail was already growing cold. And unfortunately, when the police did get involved, they didn't exactly move at lightning speed. In fact, they didn't start actively searching for her until August 6th, almost a month later. Let that sink in. When the police finally got around to investigating,

they started by interviewing Syaka's family, friends, teachers, and classmates. They also reviewed surveillance footage from the train station, which confirmed that she'd taken the train to Ono Station on the day she disappeared. But after that, nothing. No sightings, no leads, no clues. The logical thing to do at this point would have been to release the footage to the public, to let people see her face, her uniform, the bag of tomatoes. Instead, the police decided to issue a vague description of her appearance.

They mentioned her height, 1.55 meters, weight, 45 kilograms, and the fact that she had long black hair and was last seen in her school uniform. Oh, and they also mentioned the tomatoes. Helpful, right? Meanwhile, Siyaka's family finally started putting up missing-person posters, nearly a month after she disappeared. But even then, the posters were limited to a few specific locations like her school and nearby train stations.

And the wording on them? Let's just say it wasn't exactly heart-wrenching. Just a photo, a basic description, and a line asking anyone with information to contact the police. It's almost like they weren't in a rush to find her. Then came the plot twist. Police tracked the last known location of Siyaka's phone. It had been active for two days after her disappearance and was last pinged near her home before it was turned off.

This suggested a few possibilities, either she'd been abducted by someone in her neighborhood, she'd willingly gone to a friend's house nearby, or something had happened to her right near her home. But the mystery only deepened when her brother came forward with some surprising information. According to him, Sayaka had been feeling down in the weeks leading up to her disappearance. She'd confided in him that she didn't know what to do with her life. Her grades weren't great, or so he claimed, and she felt like she had no future. She was stressed, sad, and overwhelmed.

Maybe, he suggested, she'd run away. But here's the kicker, her teachers completely refuted this. They said Sayaka wasn't failing, wasn't showing signs of stress, and seemed perfectly happy. So what was the truth? Adding to the confusion, her family revealed that this wasn't the first time Siaka had run away. Back in 2011, she'd skipped her stop on the train ride home and wandered off to a park instead of going to her after-school sports practice, which she apparently hated. Her family found her after a few hours, and she hadn't taken any extra clothes or supplies

with her that time either. Was this a repeat of that incident, or was something more serious going on? Fast forward to September 16, 2013, and things took another. bizarre turn. An elderly man who lived near the I.E. Shrine in Maberra was out walking his dog, a loyal Shiba Inu. The dog had been acting strangely for days, getting agitated whenever they went near the shrine. On this particular morning, the man decided to investigate. He followed his dog to the shrine and noticed that some of the wooden boards on the building were out of place. Peking inside, he saw something shocking, a girl in a dirty school uniform,

covered in mud. She wasn't moving. The man immediately immediately called the police. When officers arrived, they discovered that the girl was indeed Sayaka Nakagawa. She was alive but in rough shape, malnourished, dehydrated, and filthy. Her parents, who lived just 400 meters away from the shrine, were called to the scene and confirmed her identity. But here's the thing, Sayaka didn't speak. She wouldn't or couldn't, explain what had happened to her.

She had a vacant look in her eyes and didn't make a sound. After a quick medical checkup, which revealed no serious injuries, the police asked her three simple questions. Had she been kidnapped? She shook her head. Had she been living at the shrine the entire time? She nodded. Had she survived by eating the vegetables and fruits in the area?

Another nod. And that was it. The official explanation from the police was that Sciaka had suffered a psychotic break due to stress and anxiety. Unable to face returning home, she'd taken refuge at the shrine and survived for 77. days by eating oranges and drinking water from nearby irrigation systems. Case closed, right? Not quite. The internet wasn't buying it. For starters, Sayaka's phone had last pinged near her house, not the shrine. Then there was the fact that the shrine was located in a fairly busy area,

not exactly the kind of place where you could hide out unnoticed for over two months. And let's not forget that this all happened during the summer, when temperatures in Japan can be sweltering. Surviving in those conditions without proper shelter, food, or water. Highly unlikely. This led to a flurry of theories. One of the most popular is that Syaka was running from someone or something. Some speculated that she'd been in an abusive relationship or had gotten involved with the wrong crowd. Maybe she'd escaped from a dangerous situation and was too traumatized to return home. Another theory pointed the finger at her family and their involvement in the Unification Church. Critics suggested that Syaka might have been trying to

escape the strict expectations and pressures of her upbringing. Perhaps she'd feared being forced into one of the church's infamous arranged marriages. Her previous attempt to run away could have been a sign of deeper issues at home. Others speculated that she hadn't been at the shrine the entire time. Maybe she'd been moving from place to place, relying on the help of someone she trusted. By the time she ended up at the shrine, she might have been too weak or scared to seek help. The truth? We may never know. Sayaka's story remains a mystery, and her strange disappearance leaves us with more questions than answers. Why did her family take so long to report her missing? Why did the police handle

the case so poorly? And most importantly, what really happened to Sayaka during those 77 days? So now it's your turn, what do you think happened to Sayaka Nakagawa? Was it a simple case of a runaway teenager, or is there something much darker lurking beneath the surface? Let's hear your theories. At 10 a.m. the next day, Leroy Henley leaves his house and heads to Bill Smolenskys. He reaches the door, lifts the doormat, and sees that there's no key underneath. He checks under the flower pots, shakes the mat, looks around the door, but the key isn't anywhere. So he quickly grabs the phone and calls Mary Helen. That's when all the alarms go off. At the end of 2004, a man of routine completely broke the expectations of everyone who knew him.

He went on a trip without telling anyone and left his dog in the care of someone he didn't even trust. Everyone knew that behavior was extremely odd, but even so, the police handled everything so calmly that the mystery lingered for many, many years. William Paul Smolinski, better known as Billy, was born on January 14, 1973, in Waterbury, Connecticut, as one of a one of a small in, of two children of Janice and William E. Smolinski. According to those who knew him, he was always a man of his word. He was loving, family-oriented, and had always been a workaholic. In fact, by the age of 31, he had three jobs, one repairing and selling cars, another installing and distributing air conditioning units for the company middle heating and cooling, and the third driving school buses is for the BNB Transportation Company.

Physically, he looked like a tough guy, he wore a silver chain, an earring, several tattoos, and if you picked a fight with him, you probably get one. But generally, Billy Smolensky was a sweetheart. He didn't look for trouble or confrontations, he was pretty balanced. But if someone pushed his buttons, they'd definitely find them. During high school, Billy met a girl named Mary Ellen Noble.

The two of them instantly had incredible chemistry, so before long, they became best friends, and that friendship led to an eight-year relationship. They had future plans, wanted to get married, have children, and eventually bought a little house together at 1.30, Holly Street. Soon after moving in, they adopted a dog they named Harley, and both families were thrilled with the relationship. Mary's family thought Billy was perfect, and Billy's family thought the same about Mary, They were very much in sync, they had a lot in common, they were the perfect couple.

But overnight, they decided to break up and agreed to share custody of Harley. Harley would primarily stay with Billy, but if he went on a weekend trip or had something to do, he'd call Mary, and she'd take the dog without hesitation. Even though they had broken up, they kept seeing each other because, after all, they were best friends. They met up for drinks weekly, she'd visit Billy's place, Billy would visit hers, so in truth, Harley didn't even notice the separation, since he still saw both of them almost every day. Shortly after the breakup, Billy started working as a bus driver for a company called BNB. There, he met a woman named Madeline Gleason. Madeline was about

16 years older than him, had been married three times, and had five children. Four of them were grown and independent, but the youngest, a 14-year-old boy, still lived with her. Nobody really knows what Billy saw in this woman, but he instantly fell for her. He brought her flowers, chocolates, and became fully involved in her family life. In fact, he even acted as a father figure to her 14-year-old son, and at one point, invited Madeline and her son to live with him. From the start, Billy's family didn't like the woman, but Billy was thrilled. with her and seemed happy. And if he was happy, nothing else mattered.

From the outside, the relationship seemed fine, but inside, it was falling apart. Billy's best friend had always been Mary, and every week, he would tell her he just didn't understand Madeline. After a year together, Billy began to notice she was doing strange things, meeting up with people he didn't know, showing up late for plans, and receiving phone calls from numbers he didn't recognize. Billy truly started to believe Madeline was cheating on him, seeing another man, lying to him. Billy was the type who overthought things, sometimes he imagined the worst when everything was actually fine. But this time, he convinced himself he had to get to the

bottom of it. If he was going to live with Madeline, he needed to trust her completely, and at that moment, he couldn't. So when Madeline invited him on a trip, he accepted. Normally, Billy didn't like traveling, he had a fear of planes and anxiety about being away from loved ones. But deep down, he felt he had to do it, traveling with Madeline was necessary to see if something was really going on. On August 21, 2004, he left his dog with Mary, packed his bags, and boarded a plane. The plan was to go to West Palm Beach, Florida, where Madeline's eldest son, Thomas Carpio Jr., lived, a former Marine the same age as Billy, 31. From the beginning, the trip was a disaster.

Madeline kept receiving phone calls she didn't want to show him. She was constantly on the phone, more interested in it than in Billy. Several times, he asked her who she was talking to, but she refused to answer. She didn't even make excuses, she just didn't want to tell him. On the night of August 21st, already in Florida, Madeline went into the bathroom. room to take a shower. But once inside, she turned on the water and started talking on the phone. To Billy, it didn't sound like a friendly chat, it sounded like a call between lovers. So when Madeline fell asleep, he grabbed her phone and checked the call log. There, he found one number

that kept showing up over and over again. It belonged to a man named Chris Sorensen, a businessman, partner at the BNB Company, and also married. So it wasn't just Madeline who was cheating, Chris was two. The next morning, August 22nd, the entire family went to the beach. And once again, Madeline started talking on the phone. That's when Billy lost his temper. He took the phone and started checking it, and instead of apologizing or even arguing with him, Madeline started screaming and called the police.

So Billy, extremely upset, dropped the phone, grabbed his things, and went straight to the airport. That same afternoon, he flew back home alone. On Monday, August 23rd, 2004, Billy couldn't help but tell Mary everything. He also mentioned that as soon as he got to work, he went straight to his boss and asked for some time off. He was devastated, anxious, depressed. His boss was initially understanding and agreed. The two friends talked for several minutes and finally agreed that, to get his mind off things and forget Madeline, they'd go to six flags that weekend, Billy Smolinsky's favorite amusement park. Unfortunately, the plan didn't help Billy forget Madeline. Throughout the entire 23rd, he kept calling her over and over, but she didn't answer a

single time. He called, she didn't answer. He called again, she hung up. So between 4 and 5 a.m. on August 24th, Billy grabbed a ladder and went to her house. He set up the ladder, climbed up to her window, and once there, called her name. Sadly, her response wasn't what he expected. Madeline told him directly that she needed some time. So Billy picked up the ladder and returned home, heartbroken. Musical note, music. The next morning, at a more reasonable hour, Billy received a visit from a co-worker at Midland heating and cooling. Unfortunately, the visit wasn't pleasant. The colleague

had bad news, Billy was fired. He handed him the paperwork and asked for the keys to the company car. Billy gave him the keys, and the man got in the car and left. After that unpleasant visit, between 1144 and 1158 a.m., Billy made three calls from his phone, all to a number that wasn't saved in his contacts. None of the calls were answered. However, after the third call, Billy left a message. You'd better watch your back from now on. At 2.59 p.m., Billy went to Burger King for lunch. According to the receipt, he ordered a Whopper meal with medium fries and Coke, and also a cheeseburger. After that, around 5 p.m., Billy went to the house of his neighbor Leroy Henley and asked for a favor. He said he was going up north.

for three days to look at a car he wanted to buy, and asked if Leroy could take care of his dog while he was away. Leroy loved dogs, so he instantly agreed. Billy told him he'd leave the house key under the doormat the next morning, so Leroy would only need to lift the mat, grab the key, and open the door. At 10 a.m. the next day, Leroy Henley left his house and went to Billy Smolenskys. But when he reached the door and lifted the mat, there was no key. He checked under the flower pots, shook the mat, looked beside the door, but the key wasn't anywhere. So he immediately grabbed his phone and called Mary Ellen. That's when all the alarms went off. First of all, the house was in perfect condition. If Harley had been left alone for

hours, the house would have been a mess. The couch would have been chewed, chairs broken, papers all over the floor, but the entire house was spotless. Second, Billy would have never left without telling Mary. She was his best friend. They told each other everything. And he would never have left Harley with anyone but her. And third, Billy didn't even like his neighbor Leroy. He didn't get along with him. He didn't like him. They had no real friendship. To be continued. And third, we have the fact that Billy didn't get along with his neighbor Roy. He didn't like Roy, they had no connection, no real friendship. So it made no sense at all that he would turn to him to care for Harley. Following these conclusions, Mary grabs the phone and

immediately calls Billy's mother and sister, Janice and Paulus Malinski. When the two women arrive at the house, they start searching everywhere together with Mary, and the three of them come to new conclusions. The first is that both of Billy's vehicles are at the house. His white truck is parked outside, and his motorcycle is in the garage. It makes no sense that Billy would go north without his truck or his motorcycle. How did he leave? Who drove him? Why didn't they know anything about it?

Secondly, the three women find the trash bin, and inside, the Burger King receipt dated August 24th at 2.59 p.m. With all of this, the women head to the Waterbury Police Department and report his disappearance. They explain the situation, talk about Billy, his age, his job, his hobbies, but as soon as the officers hear his age, they lose interest. He's an adult. He has a job. He has a family. If he said he's leaving for three days, then he's gone for three days. So until 72 hours passed, the police had no intention of doing anything.

They should start a search within 24 to 48 hours with dogs and helicopters. The police must take a missing person report seriously, statement from Janice Smolinski for the Waterbury Observer. For three days, the Smolinski family did everything they could, and finally, after three days, Billy didn't return. So on August 27, Janice and William Smolinsky returned to the station to file a formal missing persons report. That's when the police finally got to work. Several officers went to Billy's house and carried out a search, but it was unproductive. They didn't find any blood, there were no signs of struggle, nothing out of place. So they moved directly to questioning everyone, but not as suspects, more as sources of

information. First, there's Madeline Gleason. She said that between 4 and 5 a.m. on August 24th, Billy came to see her. She said he was depressed and wanted to get back together, but eventually, he grabbed his ladder and left. Second, there's Chris. Chris Sorensen, Madeline's lover. Chris claimed he didn't know Billy at all, that the name didn't even ring a bell. But he did remember that months earlier, someone had broken the windows of one of his buses. He also remembered receiving a threatening voicemail the morning of the 24th, from someone he had never met.

Third, there's Leroy Henley, Billy's neighbor. He kept repeating that Billy told him he was going away for three days to buy a car in the north. To the public eye, these three people could be involved. Madeline and Chris were lovers, so maybe they decided to get rid of Billy. And Leroy Henley could have lied. But sadly, there was no evidence against any of them. No proof. So police couldn't do anything.

Two hundred volunteers searched for Billy everywhere, even scouring the entire Nogatuck River. But no matter how hard they looked, they found nothing. After ten days of searching, Janice returned to the police station. She felt the officers were doing nothing and that everyday people were doing more than them. So the police, feeling pressured, stepped up. They decided to revisit Billy's house, and that's when they discovered his truck had been broken into. The whole vehicle was damaged, the door was forced open, a window shattered, and the seats were covered with papers.

But curiously, under the driver's seat, they found. found Billy's wallet and his keys. Now the questions were, how did they miss this the first time? Did they even search the car thoroughly, or was it a superficial check? Why didn't the thief find the wallet and the keys? Did the thief plant them there intentionally? With this evidence, the police were convinced that Billy Smolinsky hadn't left voluntarily, he had no money and no way to go anywhere. So they checked his bank records, and the last transaction was on August 24th at Burger King. With that info, police went to that same Burger King and requested the security footage. Unfortunately, the chain automatically deletes recordings

after 24 hours, and the police were too late. This is when what the Waterbury Observer called A Game of Cat and Mouse, began. The Smolensky family spent $18,000 printing 20,000 posters to spread everywhere. They handed them out to newspapers, magazines. posted them all over Waterbury and nearby towns. The posters offered a $10,000 reward for any information about Billy, if anyone had seen him, talked to him, crossed paths with him, they could receive the reward. Family and friends plastered the streets, but they especially targeted locations Madeline Gleason frequented.

The posters were everywhere, but they also focused on places like her gym, her bus route, the door to her house, her workplace, they were convinced that she or her family knew something and weren't saying it. At some point, an anonymous witness contacted the Waterbury Observer and said someone was tearing down the posters. After hearing this, the paper and the Smolenski family didn't just reprint and repost the signs, they began hiding in cars, waiting to catch whoever was doing it. And guess who it was? None other than Madeline Gleeson herself. Madeline, thinking no one was watching, ripped down the posters and tore them up. And she didn't do it alone, her 14-year-old son and her best friend Francis Bale helped her.

Worse still, they wrote on some of the posters with the word, who cares, meaning, a qui en lo importer. If this woman had ever loved Billy, why would she do this? Why write, who cares, on missing person posters? Why rip them down at all? It made no sense. So the family took photos, recorded videos, and went to the police to file a complaint against Madeline. But officers said they couldn't do anything, that Madeline had every right to remove the posters because that wasn't a crime.

Madeline Gleeson was invited to take a polygraph test, but she refused. There was no evidence against her, and she thought taking the test was ridiculous. Then, on April 4, 2005, she filed a harassment complaint against the Smolinsky family. She claimed they were placing posters in her neighborhood just to provoke and upset her. But the American justice system dismissed the case. The only thing they told the Smolinsky family was, stop taking photos and videos of her, try to stop placing posters in areas Madeline frequented, so what did the Smolinskies do? They put up even more posters.

On April 10th, Janice was seen hanging posters on the fence of the school where Madeline parked her bus. It may sound like a minor thing, but then Madeline's boss, Brad Cohen, got involved. Supposedly, someone had damaged two buses belonging to his company, one driven by Madeline and the other by her best friend, the same friend who wrote, who cares, on the missing posters. On April 15th, Janice was again found posting flyers at Madeline's workplace. Police arrested her and charged her with first-degree harassment, trespassing, disorderly conduct, she was briefly jailed. Naturally, the media picked up the story, and public opinion turned against Madeline.

They believed Janice was doing the right thing. Posting flyers wasn't a crime. What Madeline was doing was making herself look more and more like a suspect. Under public pressure, the charges against Janice were eventually dropped. Over the next 18 months, six different detectives took on the case, but none of them made any progress. Police collected DNA samples from William Smolinski Jr., and from his family members. At some point, Janice started investigating herself. She studied DNA databases and eventually realized Billy didn't appear in any of them.

So she went to the Waterbury Police Department and asked if Billy's DNA was in Cody's, the National FBI-run database. The answer she got shocked her, I was transferred from one person to another, and no one could answer my question. Finally, they told me to contact Cindy Lopez, a former Waterbury cop who now worked at the state police forensic lab. When I contacted her, she said Billy's DNA wasn't in Cody's. I want to know why, Janice Smolinski, Waterbury Observer. In August 2006, the Waterbury Police handed the case over to the FBI. The family felt hope. But at the same time, Madeline Gleason and the BNB Company sued the Smolinskies and John Murray,

reporter for the Waterbury Observer. They accused them of defamation, invasion of privacy, and emotional distress through harassment. The case wouldn't go to trial for several years. In 2007, private investigator Mike W filed a Freedom of Information Act, FOIA, request asking for all the case information. When the family reviewed the documents, they were shocked. In 2006, an anonymous informant had given police a tip that the family never knew about. The tip, while at a Dunkin' Donuts in 2004 with a friend, the friend said, Sean Carpio killed Billy because Billy hit Sean's mother, Madeline Gleason.

The informant claimed Sean strangled Billy in Madeline's apartment, then called his friend Jason Lee, and together they buried the body at a construction site where Sean was working. They dug a hole, buried Billy, and poured concrete over it the next day. From Newsweek.com, the area where Billy was allegedly buried was White Hills and Shelton. Unfortunately, no remains were ever found. So we now ask, what happened to Sean? Was he ever interrogated? Did they even look for him?

And the answer to all of it is the same. Sean died in 2005 from an overdose. So the police couldn't bring him to justice. In 2010, the Smolensky family put up a billboard on I-84 in Connecticut. This time, they raised the reward to $60,000. That same year, Discovery ID aired a documentary on the case across the United States. That's when a new anonymous witness came forward. She said that one night in late August 2004, she saw two cars drive through the forest behind her home.

This may sound trivial, but when you hear the details, you'll understand why it wasn't. The forest was hard to access, rocky terrain, narrow paths. The two vehicles. A large white truck, a red Ford escort, Billy Smolensky drove a white truck. Sean Gleeson, Madeline's son, drove a red Ford escort, the same car he died in in 2005. The night he died, Sean was using drugs with three friends. He overdosed. One of those friends was Chad Hansen, a man well known to police for robbery, resisting arrest, and more.

In 2010, Chad was interrogated, and he told a story that changed everything. Chad claimed that Sean really did kill Billy, and then called him to help bury the body. He kept sending police to different locations, constantly changing the site. The government spent over $300,000 on excavations, removing robes. rocks, debris, sand, every material you can imagine. But the body was never found. Also in 2010, Madeline's lawsuit against the Smolenskys and John Murray went to trial. The case against Murray was dismissed, but the case against the Smolinskys went in Madeline's favor. The family was ordered to pay $52,000 to that woman. They appealed twice. In 2005, they didn't have to pay anything.

So now it's your turn. What do you think happened to Billy Smolensky? Do you think justice was served? The end. Everything started in December 2003 in a small Italian village called Canito D. Coronia, located in northern Sicily. This quaint little town, home to very few inhabitants, was the kind of place where everyone knew each other. In fact, according to some sources, it had just one main street, with all the other smaller streets branching off from it. It was a village of hardworking construction workers and laborers.

As you might imagine, this was a peaceful, tranquil place where nothing ever happened. To some, it might have seemed like paradise, the ideal place to live. But to others, it would have been dreadfully boring. No drama, no conflict, no problems. Just a small, isolated town where you'd see the same faces every single day. However, Antonino Pizzino, a 43-year-old resident of Canito, didn't think that way. For him, Canito was home, and he adored it. Back in the 1980s, he had built his own house there with the help of his father.

They sourced the materials themselves, installed the water system, and set up the electrical wiring. When the house was finally completed, Antonino moved in with his wife Maria and their 15-year-old son Giuseppe. Life in Canito was idyllic for Antonino. His entire family lived nearby, practically as neighbors on the same Main Street, via mare. It was a happy and peaceful environment, and things stayed that way, until December 23, 2003, when absolute chaos erupted.

That night, Antinino, also known as Nino, was sitting down to dinner. He was relaxed, enjoying his meal, when suddenly, he smelled smoke. It was an intense, burning odor that grew stronger by the second. At first, he tried to ignore it, but it quickly became unbearable. Rising from the table, he went to investigate and discovered that the electrical panel was on fire. Within moments, the flames had spread to the curtains, and then, to the furniture. Acting quickly, Nino managed to extinguish the fire before it caused any significant damage. Initially, the incident seemed like an isolated event, something to laugh about

with neighbors and friends. But just four days later, other objects in his house began to catch fire, seemingly out of nowhere. A kitchen fan, a television, and even a toaster were among the items that mysteriously burst into flames. What was happening defied explanation? At first, Nino assumed it was a problem with the electrical installation. After all, the house had been built quickly in the 1980s, and he and his father might not have done everything by the book. Determined to fix the issue, he called in experts at the end of January 2004 to replace the entire electrical system.

However, even after the rewiring, the fires continued, and this time, they weren't limited to his house. Soon, the homes of friends, neighbors, and family members along Via Mare also began to catch fire. Televisions, fans, and toasters seemed to spontaneously combust in one house after another. There were no apparent patterns, no logical explanations. The homes weren't poorly constructed, they were modest but well-built, housing about 100 people in total. Baffled and alarmed, Nino called in two electricians to inspect his house. After a thorough check, they told him there was no problem with his wiring but decided to cut the electricity temporarily as a precaution. Yet, even with

the power turned off, the fires persisted. They began occurring throughout the village, plugs bursting into flames, wires igniting spontaneously. One particularly puzzling case involved a neighbor's house that had recently undergone a complete rewiring. Despite the new electrical system, it too caught fire. Convinced the issue must be related to the town's electrical grid, the villagers turned to the utility company managing the network. As the informal spokesperson for the community, Nino made the call. However, the company didn't respond, so Nino reached out to the mayor, Pietro Spinado, a close friend of his. The mayor visited the affected homes, witnessed the damage firsthand, and called in additional

electricians. Once again, the power was cut to several houses, but the fires continued. Between January and March 2004, residents of Via Mayor reported a staggering 92 fires. The situation soon attracted national attention. Firefighters swarmed the village, followed closely by journalists eager to document the bizarre events. With cameras rolling, Nino became the face of the crisis, speaking on behalf of his neighbors. Theories about the cause of the fires began to circulate. Some villagers noted that the fires often started when the train passed through town. On February 9, two houses caught fire, and one resident ran to the police station with his pants still smoldering. He begged

the authorities to take action, recounting how a fire had broken out in his daughter's room, a tragedy narrowly averted. The mayor decided to evacuate. the residents of Via Mare. He arranged for them to stay at the local hotel Z. Maria. While some villagers appreciated the gesture, others were less enthusiastic. Among the grateful was Nino's aunt, Maria Mirabella, who had never stayed in a hotel before and felt like royalty. On the other hand, people like Nino himself resented the disruption. I was born here, he said. I've always lived here. Sleeping in a hotel felt like I was invading someone else's property. On February 11,

the local prosecutor announced the launch of an investigation. The villagers were relieved at first, hopeful that answers were finally on the way. But their optimism turned to outrage when the prosecutor suggested the fires were being deliberately set by someone in the community. This theory was met with fierce resistance. The villagers were convinced the cause was something external, a problem with the power grid, the train, or even the telephone lines. But investigators, engineers, scientists, and government technicians monitored Canito around

the clock and found no evidence of technical faults. On February 13th, a member of the committee for the investigation of claims of the paranormal visited the village. He speculated that seismic activity in the area might be to blame. However, experts in the field dismissed this idea as unlikely. For main theories emerged, electromagnetic surges, faulty telephone lines, human arson, and paranormal activity. The last theory gained traction among those who believed the fires were caused by spirits, demons, or even UFOs. Enter Father Gabriel Amorth, a well-known exorcist. Journalists flocked to him for his opinion.

Father Amorth suggested that the fires could be the result of black magic, white magic, or demonic activity. However, the local priest defended his congregation, insisting they were good Christians and hard workers, not practitioners of any sinister rituals. As the investigation dragged on, the situation at Hotel Z. Maria descended into chaos. Residents treated the hotel as if it were their own homes, which strained the hotel's resources. Frustrated, the hotel management demanded payment from the mayor, presenting bills totaling 100,000 euros. Meanwhile, the fires temporarily ceased, only to return with a vengeance on May 16, 2004.

Experts who visited the area reported strange phenomena, such as compasses spinning wildly and car antennas catching fire. An engineer, Francesco Valenti, produced a 30-page report concluding. that the fires were caused by intense electromagnetic fields. He recommended relocating the train line and overhauling the town's electrical infrastructure, but his suggestions were ignored. By June 2004, the residents of Via Mayor returned to their homes. For a while, life seemed to return to normal. But in October, the chaos resumed. Nino's house caught fire again, this time accompanied by bursting water pipes. From October 2004 to June 2005, the villagers were once more evacuated,

to the hotel. Frustrated and desperate, some families packed up and left Canedo for good. In April 2005, the government sent another team of investigators to the village. They identified two possible causes for the fires, natural phenomena, such as lightning or friction, and deliberate human action. The latter finding reignited tensions. In May, Francesco Valenti conducted another study, warning of the dangers posed by the fires, including electrocution and toxic smoke. But again, his report was ignored. For the next two years, Canito was quiet. No fires, no drama.

However, many residents had lost trust in the safety of the village and moved away. The investigations continued, with some experts suggesting the fires were linked to seawater, while others speculated about UFO activity. Yet no definitive answers emerged. Then, in 2008, the fires returned. On June 24, the local prosecutor made a shocking announcement, the fire fires were arson. While he didn't disclose who was responsible or why, his statement coincided with a sudden cessation of the fires. Years passed without incident. But in July 2014,

the fires came back, more intense than ever. Furniture, cables, curtains, and even cars were set ablaze. Among the vehicles burned were those belonging to Nino's brother and nephew. The renewed chaos prompted many residents to flee once again. Determined to solve the mystery, the police installed hidden cameras around their mayor and monitored the village 24-7 for eight months. The breakthrough came on September 24, 2014. Footage showed Nino and his son Giuseppe walking near a truck. They circled it, and shortly after they left, smoke began to rise from the vehicle. Similar incidents were captured, Leap Castle, a towering structure nestled in County Offaly,

Ireland, stands about six kilometers north of Roscria and ten kilometers south of Kennedy. It is not only a must-see destination for history buffs and architecture enthusiasts, but also a magnetic spot for lovers of the paranormal. Why? Because Leap Castle is often regarded as the most haunted building in Ireland, if not the entire world. Some claim it even surpasses notorious sites like Brand Castle in Romania or the Tower of London in its reputation for ghostly activity. The chilling stories surrounding its history seemed to support this claim. Hashtag hashtag hashtag a sacred beginning. The origins of Leap Castle trace back to an era before the first stone was laid. The land it stands on was considered sacred by ancient druids, who built wooden structures,

platforms, and bridges for rituals and ceremonies. This rocky terrain, dotted with cliffs and grottos, served as a spiritual hub for invoking the gods and performing rites. Only the druids, who were highly revered as priests, philosophers, and mystics, had access to this sacred ground. were believed to wield immense power, both political and magical. They were said to control the elements, summon storms, create fires, and even conjure mist. Their influence extended beyond mere superstition, kings themselves respected and feared them. Disrespecting a druid often

resulted in a death sentence. What set druids apart was their understanding of life and death. For them, death was not an end but a transformation. Roman writers documented their rituals, including human sacrifices. These sacrifices, though horrific by modern standards, were performed with the belief that offering one soul could save another. During times of war or crisis, druids would sacrifice individuals in the hope of achieving a greater good, often in rituals involving agonizing methods like burning victims alive inside wicker statues.

Hashtag hashtag a gruesome discovery. In August 1984, archaeologists uncovered the remains of the Vlindau man, a 2,000-year-old body found in a bob. His death bore hallmarks of a druidic sacrifice. The man, identified as a high-ranking individual based on his manicured nails and well-groomed appearance, had consumed a ritualistic final meal of wild plants, grains, and mistletoe, a plant sacred to druids. After this preparation, he endured a brutal triple execution, a blow to the head, strangulation,

and throat-sleading. His body was then thrown into the bog. Such sacrificial rituals likely occurred on the land where Leap Castle now stands, further embedding it in the dark mystique of Ireland's druidic past. Hashtag hashtag the Clan O'Bannon and the Leap of Death. By the 10th century, Ireland was ruled by clans, familial groups led by powerful chieftains. When a chieftain died, succession was not automatically granted to the eldest son. Instead, it was contested by the most capable warriors of the clan, often leading to bloody

rivalries. The O'Bannon clan controlled the land where Leap Castle would later rise. Legend has it that two brothers of the O'Bannon family competed for leadership by leaping off the rocky cliffs of the sacred druidic site. The brother who survived would claim leadership. The outcome of their fateful leap is lost to history, but their dramatic contest gave the area its name, Leap Castle, and marked the beginning of its construction. Hashtag hashtag the rise of the Okarrel clan. The O'Ban family held the castle for some time, but they were eventually overpowered by the fearsome O'Carroll clan in the 15th century. Known for their ruthlessness, the O'Carrolls showed no mercy to enemies, allies, or even

family members. Their reign was marked by treachery, violence, and a disregard for alliances. The O'Carrolls established Leap Castle as a base of operations, but their legacy was anything but peaceful. One of the most infamous events during their rule involved the betrayal of their allies. After securing mercenaries from the McMahon and O'Neill clans, the O'Caroles hosted a lavish banquet for them. However, the feast was poisoned, and the unsuspecting guests were slaughtered. Their decapitated heads were tossed out of the castle's windows as a gruesome warning. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the Bloody Chapel, one of the darkest chapters in Leap Castle's history

unfolded within its chapel, now known as the Bloody Chapel. After the death of Mulroney O'Carroll, the clan leader, a bitter power struggle erupted between his sons, Thaddeus and Tay. Thaddeus, a warrior, sought to assert dominance through force, while Tay, a priest, desired peace. Despite his reluctance, Tay was compelled to fight for leadership. One day, while conducting mass in the castle chapel, Tay was ambushed by Thaddeus, who drove a sword through his brother's back. The murder, committed in a sacred space, horrified witnesses, and cast a shadow over the Ocaro lineage. To this day, visitors report seeing ghostly apparitions in the Bloody Chapel, hearing faint prayers,

and witnessing mysterious lights. Hashtag hashtag the dungeon of horror. Beneath the Bloody Chapel lies one of Leap Castle's most chilling features, a hidden dungeon known as an Ubliette. Originally designed as a secret storage area for religious relics, the Okaros repurposed it as a gruesome torture chamber. Victims were pushed through a trapdoor, landing on spikes below. Those who survived the initial fall were left to die slowly amidst the remains of previous victims. When Leap Castle was renovated in the 20th century, workers discovered the dungeon and unearthed hundreds of skeletal remains. It took three cartloads to remove the bones, along with a pocket watch dated to the mid-19th century,

suggesting the dungeon was used far longer than previously thought. Hashtag hashtag-hastly residents. Leap Castle is teeming with ghost stories, many of which stem from its violent history. Among its spectral inhabitants are the Red Lady, a tall woman in a flowing red gown, and two young girls named Emily and Charlotte. Emily reportedly died at age 11 after falling from the castle battlements, while Charlotte succumbed to illness at a young age. Visitors claim to see their playful spirits running through the halls.

Perhaps the most infamous entity is that Elemental, a dark, shadowy figure with a horrifying stench of decay. This creature is believed to have been summoned during one of the occult rituals conducted by Mildred Darby, a 19th century resident fascinated by the supernatural. Hashtag hashtag the Darby family and the paranormal. In the 17th century, the English crown granted Leap Castle to Jonathan Darby, whose descendants retained ownership for generations. Mildred Darby, an accomplished writer, was particularly intrigued by the castle's haunted reputation. She held seances and wrote extensively about her encounters with spirits, often under the pseudonym Andrew Mary. Mildred described the elemental in a letter as a creature with lustful eyes and decaying flesh. She believed it revealed hidden passageways and secrets within the castle.

Her accounts fueled the castle's reputation as a paranormal hotspot. Hashtag hashtag leap castle today. Leap Castle has endured centuries of bloodshed, betrayal, and dark rituals. Despite its haunted past, or perhaps because of it, it remains one of Ireland's most popular tourist destinations. Visitors from around the world flock to experience its eerie atmosphere and uncover its secrets. Whether you're a history enthusiast or a ghost hunter, Leap Castle offers an unforgettable journey into Ireland's mysterious and macabre past. Last week, I received a package that changed my life. I live alone in a small apartment in the city, and I'm not someone who normally receives unexpected deliveries.

So when I found a plane, brown box sitting on my doorstep, I was both confused and curious. There was no return address, no label, nothing to indicate where it had come from. My first thought was that it might be a mistake or some kind of promotional stunt. But as I picked it up, I felt an unusual wait, this was no ordinary box. I decided to bring it inside, my curiosity getting the best of me. Once I placed it on my kitchen table, I noticed it had been taped shut with an alarming amount of packing tape. I had to use a knife to cut through it, and when I finally pried it open, I found a smaller, intricately carved wooden box inside. The craftsmanship was remarkable, it looked antique.

I opened the wooden box with trembling hands, expecting to find something mundane like a trinket or a piece of jewelry. But instead, there was a folded piece of parchment and a small brass key. The parchment had an elaborate, handwritten note that read, Dear Valentina, if you're reading this, you've been chosen to embark on a journey. Inside this box is the key to a secret only you can uncover. Trust your instincts, follow the clues, and remember, not everything is as it seems. Good luck. The note was signed with a single, mysterious initial, R, I was both intrigued and a bit unnerved.

My initial reaction was to dismiss it as a prank, but something about it felt too real. I decided to investigate further, starting with the key. I examined the box for any locks or hidden compartments but found nothing. I then turned my attention to the parchment, hoping there might be more clues. The next day, I went to a local antique shop, thinking I might find some context or similar items that could explain the key. The shopkeeper, an elderly woman with a sharp gaze, took one look at the key and said, This looks like a key to an old writing desk.

Do you have any idea where it might fit? I admitted I had no clue but showed her the wooden box. Her eyes widened, and she asked if I'd found anything unusual. When I told her about the note, she became even more interested, asking if I could bring the box back later. Over the next few days, I received more packages each one containing more intricate clues and puzzles. I was directed to various locations around the city, a hidden library, an abandoned warehouse, and even an old theater.

Each location had its own set of mysteries and challenges, and I had to solve each one to move forward. The journey was thrilling but exhausting. I met interesting people along the way, some of whom seemed to know more than they let on. Eventually, I reached the final destination, a secluded, ivy-covered estate on the outskirts of town. The estate was filled with relics and artifacts, and in the center of a grand room stood an ornate desk. The key fit perfectly. Inside the desk drawer, I found a letter addressed to me. It explained that the entire adventure had been a test of my curiosity, intelligence, and resilience. The letter was from my great-grandfather, whom I had never met.

He had left a series of challenges for me to uncover a family secret. The final revelation was both heartwarming and surreal. It turned out that my great-grandfather had been a collector of rare artifacts, and the estate was now mine to manage. He had orchestrated this elaborate scavenger hunt to ensure that someone in the family would appreciate and care for the collection. him. I was overwhelmed but also exhilarated. The experience had introduced me to a hidden side of my family history and to the thrill of uncovering long-forgotten secrets. So, if you

ever find an unexpected package on your doorstep, don't be too quick to dismiss it. Sometimes, the most extraordinary adventures begin with the most ordinary moments. The American justice system had it clear, this man had serious mental problems. So, they sentenced him to spend the rest of his life in a psychiatric center. However, the following year, McDowell escaped, and according to witnesses, he ran directly into the Bennington Forest. We begin. The Bermuda Triangle is an incredibly famous place for the strange events and disappearances that happened there. But what if I told you that there is a second triangle just as mysterious as this one? This triangle is located on Glastonbury Mountain in the southwestern part of Vermont,

and its legend dates back to times before the colonization of North America. This is not just a simple tale passed from generation to generation, as to date, more than 40 disappearances have been recorded in this specific area, 40 official disappearances of hikers and hunters who supposedly knew the area well. But before we start talking about these events, let's get to know a little about what's hidden in these woods. In 1996, Joseph Cetro published a book called Passing Strange, true tales of New England hauntings and horrors. In this work, he presented to the public his

particular study about the supposed curse that falls upon these lands. According to his investigations, during the colonization of North America, the Snockey lived in these lands, a tribe of natives who had a special fear of this forest area. They flat out refused to set foot on Glastonbury Mountain unless they had to bury their dead there, as they believed the entire mountain was cursed. They claimed that the four winds met there in an eternal struggle and that to interrupt them meant death. Many experts who heard this story claimed it was nothing more than a myth, that it was impossible for winds to be in a constant dispute and disturb the living. But the truth is, the wind pattern in this area is so erratic that the weather changes suddenly,

and plants in the area grow at really strange angles. The strangest thing of all is that this legend doesn't end here. Researcher David Russell published an ex-project paranormal magazine an additional detail about this story, apparently, according to the Snockey, in a hidden place near the mountain summit, there exists an enchanted rock capable of swallowing a man whole, a rock that, when it feels a man step on it, becomes a portal to another dimension. For years, the natives warned the settlers about the danger of approaching this mountain. But, obviously, they didn't want to listen, and many people got lost in these woods, never to return. As centuries passed, these stories began to fade, and with them, several settlements were built

around the slopes of this mountain. However, none of them lasted long, and those that did survive until the early 19th century ended up abandoned due to the isolation. Settlers reported in their writings a large number of strange events. They said that at night in this area, strange lights ruled the sky and that odd smells and sounds emerged directly from the woods. Even so, the strangest report published to date might be that of the Bennington monster, a creature that, according to witnesses, measures approximately six feet two inches tall and has a body completely covered in hair. This could be what folklore calls Bigfoot or Sasquatch, a being that hides in the darkness of night, attacks hikers, or even kidnaps children and eats them inside its cave.

The first sighting of the monster was reported in the early 19th century when a stagecoach suffered a terrible accident while traveling one of the roads that crossed the mountain. Apparently, this beast appeared out of nowhere, pushed the stagecoach off the road, and then hid in the brush while roaring with all its might. But that wouldn't be the last time someone claimed to have seen it. The footprints of its enormous feat were found daily by multiple hunters, and hundreds of stagecoaches reported that, while passing through those roads and at night, they could hear the roars of that creature. So hundreds of hunts were organized to end the life of this monster, but no one could ever prove that the Sasquatch was real. No one could ever prove it existed, and therefore it was never captured. But they did catch the man who, in 1967, pretended to be it. At the beginning of that year, a very similar story came to

life, as people from the area began reporting that a wild man was hiding in a cave very close to Somerset. As the story became more well known, the man started to come down from the mountain to scare hikers. This man would run into hikers and hunters wearing nothing but a fur coat that reached his knees. So, you can imagine what he did next. He would appear out of nowhere, stand in the middle of the trail, open his coat, expose himself, and run off. At first, people didn't find him dangerous, just a lunatic who liked to expose himself. But as time went on, scaring people became insufficient for this man. So he started threatening people with a weapon, demanding food, money, or even clothing.

And it's at this point that the police got involved and put this man behind bars. Now let's dive into the sinister side of this mountain. In 1892, a man well respected by his community committed an atrocious crime. His name was Henry McDowell, and he worked at a sawmill located on the sloth. of this mountain. One day, after getting drunk in a bar, he went to work with a rock in his hands, stood behind one of his co-workers, and hit him again and again until he killed him. When the police arrived at the crime scene, McDowell did not resist arrest. In fact, he didn't even seem disturbed. And when they asked him why he had done it, he simply claimed that the

voices in his head had made him do it. The American justice system had it clear, this man had serious mental problems. So they sentenced him to spend the rest of his life in a psychiatric center. However, the following year, McDowell escaped, and according to witnesses, ran directly into the Bennington Forest. Only five years after this event, a series of unexplainable events broke out in the area, events that began with the death of a man. Apparently, in 1897, John Harbor, a hunting enthusiast, decided to visit the lands of Rickford Hollow, located south of Glastonbury. But in the middle of his trip, he was shot by unknown individuals. So far, we could think this was an accidental crime, probably caused by other hunters.

However, there were some elements that didn't quite fit. Firstly, the attacker or attackers shot him, then dragged his body several yards, and when they saw that perhaps they couldn't take him where they wanted, they simply abandoned him in the middle of the forest. But not before placing his own weapon, fully loaded, next to him. In other words, John Harbor didn't even pull the trigger. He didn't even defend himself. Those who investigated his death never solved the case, since it doesn't make any sense that a man carrying a weapon wouldn't try to defend himself. Nor does it make sense that a killer would drag a body, abandon it, and leave his fully loaded weapon next to it. It makes

no sense. So many thought the attacker was probably Henry McDowell, the madman who had escaped the psychiatric hospital years before. But the area's climate and lack of resources made it nearly impossible for one person to survive there for so long. McDowell would have died of hypothermia, starvation, or some illness within months of being there. But that was never proven. After these sinister events, the Bennington Triangle began to be the subject of multiple legends, especially in the early 1940s. At that time, rumors emerged that several hunters had entered the area and were never heard from again. These stories were only known by local people, as they weren't published in newspapers or broadcast on the radio. But in 1945, things changed as a wave of disappearances flooded the media.

The first to disappear was mid-dye rivers, a 64-year-old fisherman and hunter. This man knew the terrain very well, having been on many hunting trips within Glastonbury Mountain. The day he disappeared, early November, he had just returned with his friends from one of those trips. They were walking along long-trail road, a well-known route for hikers and hunters that connects the mountain summit with its base. It's quite a long trail, but in a group, it's not too hard. Apparently, that day, Rivers was walking ahead, leading the group. Everyone was in high spirits, joking, laughing, and at some point, while passing near the river, rivers went through some bushes, and when the others followed, he was no longer there.

They searched everywhere, thinking it was a prank. But after 20, 30, 40 minutes, they began to worry. So as soon as they got to camp, they called the police. The first thing they did was dragged the river, he probably fell and was swept away by the current. But none of his friends heard splashing, not even a scream. Also, to be continued, he was dragged by the river, he probably fell and was dragged by, the waters but none of his friends, heard splashing or even screaming. The area was also thoroughly searched, but it was useless, it was as if Middy had, been swallowed

by the earth, the police combed the entire area and the only clue they found was a rifle bullet, in the water, a bullet, belonging to the rifle model that, Middy Rivers was carrying that day, so, they thought that rivers probably leaned over the water, a bullet fell from, his pocket, and then he followed it. But, again, no one heard anything, no one, heard him fall or scream, and, from that point on, no one ever heard of him again. On December 1st, The second, inexplicable disappearance occurred. This was Paula Weldon's. Paula Weldon, 18 years old, was a second-year student at Bennington College, a private, liberal arts university. Her academic record was so impeccable that she got a part-time job at the same, university.

She was so bright and had, such an attractive charisma that all her classmates held her in high regard. However, overnight her, attitude changed. One day after work, Paula went straight to the student residence where she, was staying and told her roommate, that she really wanted to hike the long trail road on Glastonbury, Mountain. She said that the next day she had made plans, with others to do the trail and invited, her roommate to go with them, but the girl declined, because she had exams. So the next day, Paula woke up, packed her backpack, and when she went to pick up her friends, no one wanted to go with her. Everyone had plans, exams, everyone had something to do. So, without hesitation, she decided, to do the trail completely alone.

She had no gear, she didn't know the area, but Paula was determined. According to witnesses, the young woman, started the trail at 4 p.m., a highly inadvisable time considering, it's a route that takes hours to reach, from the base to the summit of the mountain. A mountain that, let's remember, is, very deceptive and the weather can, change drastically from one moment to the next, plus it was December, meaning it would get dark in a few hours. This information didn't seem to matter, to Paula. A great number of people, claimed to have seen her walking, calmly toward the summit without, appropriate shoes or warm clothing, just a red jacket and thin pants. That was all the protection

she had. People said she seemed entranced, by the surroundings, lost in thought. She seemed so carefree it was scary. That's why, when she asked Ernest Whitman, an employee of the Bennington Banner, for directions, the man told her, the best thing she could do was go home, that it was too late to go up. He also, warned her that the clothes she was wearing. were completely inappropriate, and, that when temperatures dropped, she'd have no chance out there. But the young, woman again didn't listen and continued, walking up the mountain. The next people who saw her were, an elderly couple who, like her, were doing the trail. This couple, claimed they were walking about 100 meters, behind her when the path took a,

sharp curve, a very tight bend. So they had two options, either, follow the trail, or come. cut across, to save time. Paula took the second, option, cutting across the trail, but they followed the bend, stuck, to the path. When they reached, the point where they were supposed, to meet up with Paula again, she was, gone. They looked everywhere, turned around, searched through the brush, but there was no trace of the girl.

It seemed really strange to them, but they thought maybe she'd gotten, distracted or had decided to go back home, especially as it was getting dark. So they carried on as if nothing, had happened. The next day, Paula Weldon's father received a call from her workplace, saying the young woman hadn't shown up. This wasn't normal for her. So he immediately called the police, and not only was a police search, organized but also a media campaign. Her name was on all the radio stations, and a $5,000 reward was offered to, anyone who gave reliable information. about his daughter's whereabouts. But unfortunately, no one ever heard from her again. Rumors at the time said Paula, was tired of her monotonous life, tired of the pressure to be perfect,

tired of work, tired of studies, just tired of everything. So she decided, to disappear, leaving witnesses along the way. Another rumor said Paula was dating, a much older man but her father, didn't approve of the relationship, so she faked her disappearance to, run away with this man to Canada. But I suppose the truth about this case, we'll never know. By the end of 1949, rumors of, disappearances in the area surfaced again. Locals said several hunters had gone, into the woods and never came out, but newspapers didn't report it, so this was taken as hearsay. But on December 1st of that same year, the media finally made public, the disappearance of someone, James Ford, a veteran who had been, living at a soldier's home in Bennington.

According to newspapers of the time, this man had been in St. Albans, visiting his family, and after that, he got on a bus headed for Bennington. That's when, without warning, he vanished. According to witnesses, there were, about 14 people on the bus and they all, saw Tedford get on, sit near the, middle by the window, and place his things next to him. He pulled down, the visor on his cap, crossed his arms, and fell asleep. However, near the end of the trip, someone turned, to look at him and realized, his things were still there, but he, was gone. On his seat was a bus schedule left open. From here, there are two versions, of the story.

The first says the bus route was direct, from St. Albans to Bennington, with no stops, so the disappearance, is truly bizarre. The second version claims there were, indeed stops, at least five between, St. Albans and Bennington, and that at the second to last stop, passengers realized James Tedford, had vanished. His backpack was on, the seat, his schedule on the chair, and in the bus luggage compartment, he still had more bags, but the man was nowhere to be found. And no one saw him get up. So his disappearance remains, a complete mystery. On October 12, 1950, alarms rang out again. Paul Jepson, an eight-year-old boy, had disappeared.

Apparently, his parents owned, a farm and at one point his mother, left him playing in a corner, of the house while she went to feed the pigs. Barely ten minutes passed, and when, she came back, the boy was gone. She thought maybe he was inside, getting toys, and would come back out. But she searched everywhere, her son wasn't there. It was as if the earth had swallowed him. She quickly called the police end. A massive search party was organized, over 100 volunteers, more than 20 police officers. But only the search dogs could find a clue.

Apparently the dogs tracked, the boys sent through the forest, but it was lost at a road. Had the child walked there alone? Or had someone kidnapped him, and taken him. taken him by car. Whatever the answer, local legend says that same road, was the place where Paula Weldon disappeared years earlier. The last strange disappearance, happened on October 28 that same year, Frida Langer, a 53-year-old woman. That day, she was camping with, her family near the Somerset Reservoir, when she and her cousin Herbert Ellsner decided to go for a walk. But just as they started walking, she tripped and fell into a puddle.

So she asked her cousin to wait, while she changed and caught up with him. She said it would only take a few minutes. But 10, 20, 30 minutes passed, and Frida didn't return. So Herbert went back to the camp, and asked about Frida, but, no one had seen her. They quickly called the police, and one of the most impressive, searches ever began, 400 volunteers, rescue dogs, helicopters. The entire forest was combed, but no one was. found a single trace of her whereabouts. Her disappearance was shocking. She'd undergone brain

surgery, just a month earlier, had a metal plate in her head, and could get easily disoriented. The path back to camp was, a straight line, very simple, but she could have gotten confused, and wandered off. Her husband offered a $1,000 reward, to anyone who could give a clue, but after two weeks, the case was closed. Six months later, Two fishermen, found a partially decomposed body, miles from where Frida had, supposedly vanished. Authorities were called, and upon seeing the metal plate, in her skull, they immediately, assumed it was the woman. That's when two questions arose. First, what was the cause of death? The body was never autopsied. A coroner simply assumed, she died of accidental exhaustion, and the case was closed.

Second, the location. That area had already been searched. So Frida's family demanded the case, be reopened and a proper autopsy done. But the coroner had spoken, and that was it. There was nothing more to do. Over the years, many more disappearances, occurred in this area, like Michael Pippen, 13, and Richard Quagg, 11, whose bodies, like Frida's, were found in places already searched, by the police. But for some strange reason, no one ever noticed this. No one ever asked what or who,

caused their deaths, or why their bodies were in places, already combed. So many theories emerged. The first was that of a serial killer. All these people vanished within, a five-year period, mostly between November and December. This seemed like more than coincidence. Frida's body being found, set off alarm bells. Maybe someone successfully kidnapped, and killed many people, but like many serial killers, eventually wanted to show off, so left Frida's body in a place where they knew someone would find it. This could explain why no other remains, were found, why Paul's scent ended at the road, and even Paula Weldon's case, maybe she hitchhiked and disappeared there.

But this theory doesn't fully hold. First, Frida and Middy Rivers disappeared very close to friends. It's risky to abduct someone in front, of people. Second, there's no pattern. Men and women, young and old, even a child. Yes, the months were the same, but beyond that, no pattern. So the serial killer theory doesn't hold up. With that ruled out, only the paranormal theories remain.

Some said Sasquatch killed them. Others said aliens abducted them, or that the enchanted stone, swallowed them. But now it's your turn, what do you think happened? Was it someone? A coincidence? Or something paranormal? End. The legend says that Anton Levy, at the moment of his death, was cutting out a photograph from a newspaper.

It was a photograph of him at Marilyn Monroe's funeral. He cut one side, then another, and just when he finished, he realized that on the other side of the page there was an image of Jane Mansfield. Without even knowing it, he had decapitated her. I think we should begin this story at the end, an end that for many was one way, and for others was very different. It was when Jane Mansfield died in a tragic accident, and rumors began to spread. Rumors that claimed her death was the result of a curse cast by Anton Levy. They said that the actress, in her last years, had been playing with fire.

practicing black magic, the occult, and doing everything possible to escape her tragic fate. But is all this true, or is it just pure fantasy? We will find out next. Jane Palmer was born on April 19, 1933, in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, as the only child of Herbert William Palmer and Vera Jeffrey Palmer. I wish I could recount a happy and joyful childhood for her, but for Jane, at least at first, that was not the case. In 1936, when she was three years old, she lost her father under tragic circumstances. She and her parents were traveling by car when suddenly the man driving began to suffer a heart attack. The man died moments later, and the car collided.

For years later, her mother Vera remarried, and the whole family moved to Dallas, Texas. Apparently, Jane did not like Dallas at all. She did not like the people, she did not like the environment, but it was here that she began to dream of becoming a movie star. All the girls at that time wanted to be like Shirley Temple, and Jane did everything possible to resemble her. At 12, she began attending dance classes, and while in high school, she took violin, piano, and viola lessons.

She studied Spanish, German, and some sources say she even acquired basic knowledge of French. At this point, truth and lies intertwine in a very twisted way. Several sources claim that Jane Palmer had an IQ of 163. Yes, Jane Palmer was a pretty intelligent girl. Yes, she got good grades. Yes, she did many extracurricular activities, but there are no documents that confirmed that her IQ was 163. There are no documents, no testimonies, nothing at all.

So everything seems to suggest that Jane lied about this, or if she did not, her publicist did. At 17, Jane was very popular. She was beautiful, kind, daring, and at one point, she began dating a 20-year-old boy named Paul Mansfield. Unfortunately, the couple did not take precautions, and shortly after starting their relationship, Jane became pregnant. So, the young couple had to marry.

Months after getting married, Jane gave birth to their first daughter, Jane Mansfield. From this point on, Paul thought that Jane would forget about being a star, that she would stop studying, that she would become a housewife. But Jane did not want that. She wanted to be an actress, a singer, and she wanted to do so many things that she flatly refused to stay at home. She was so convinced that she wanted to be a star that she took her husband and daughter and went to Los Angeles, where she knocked on every door asking for an opportunity.

The woman began acting in small roles on Broadway, and at one point, she called Paramount an audition to play Joan of Arc. This part of the story is quite curious because she was not accepted for two reasons. The first, and most obvious, was that they thought this woman did not have much talent. The second was that the casting directors thought she had too much chess to play Joan of Arc. Still, she did not give up. She continued fighting for her dreams and even hired a publicist, Jim Byron, to help her get attention at any cost. How did she do it? Very simply.

At that time, Marilyn Monroe was a big star, and the best way to stand out was to become her clone. So Jane dyed her hair blonde, and in 1955, she went to the press event for the movie underwater. At this event, there was a pool, and all the models and actresses wore swimsuits. So Jane wasn't going to be any different. She wore a red swimsuit that was too small for her, and when she got into the water, the top disappeared. The photographers took a lot of pictures, and the woman appeared on all the covers. This was obviously a huge scandal at the time, but Jane got what she wanted, everyone talking about her. In fact, this move worked so well that Warner Brothers and Playboy magazine

contacted her. In this phase, Jane got small roles provided by Warner and many jobs for Playboy magazine. She was even Playboy's model of the month on several occasions, but this did not sit well with Paul Mansfield. In 1955, he filed for divorce, and soon after, he claimed custody of their daughter, using the same excuse that Jane was a bad mother for appearing in Playboy. But a judge ruled that this was absurd, and Jane was allowed to continue taking care of her daughter. On May 3rd, 1956, Century Fox hired Jane Mansfield, aiming to turn her into the new Maryland Monroe. Jane wanted to stand out, so she accepted all the roles that Marilyn Monroe rejected, roles of dumb, superficial, interested blondes. While starting in cinema,

Jane also continued performing in Broadway plays, like a girl to watch. But it must be said that when she transitioned to the big screen, her career skyrocketed. In 1956, she starred in The Girl Can't Help It. This is when Jane Mansfield's second husband, Mickey Hargitay, who had once been Miss Universe, entered the scene. The couple married on January 13, 1958, and from then on, it was all about covers and scandals. The couple loved being the center of attention and did everything possible to exhibit themselves. They posed in swimsuits, took all kinds of poses, and offered exclusives' concerts, and offered exclusives' During their marriage, the couple had three children, McClough's Jeffrey Zoltan Anthony

and Mariska Magdal. For every birth, Jane appeared on a cover, and even the construction of their mansion in Beverly Hills also made a few headlines. But we are not talking about a typical movie star's house, this was a completely pink mansion, a mansion that Jane herself called the Pink Palace. It had rooms full of mirrors, a pink facade, a giant heart-shaped pool, and inside, you could read, I love you, Jane. And to top it all off, Jane bought a pink Cadillac, which she always parked in front of the mansion. This relationship gave her a lot of publicity, and Jane was able to land new roles. She was mostly cast as a dumb, superficial blonde,

but in 1957, she had a chance at a dramatic role in the movie The Lost Bus. It must be said that thanks to this, she won a Golden Globe. That same year, the play-Aid girl to watch was turned into a movie, and Jane starred in it. But from this point on, her decline began. Critics praised her last movies, but gradually, the Maryland girls began to lose interest with the public. Jane could barely work. She was constantly pregnant. They gave her a role, she got pregnant. She took a break, got another role, got pregnant, took another break. The strong point of this woman, according to the studios, was her physique, and little by little, she was losing it. Still, Jane did everything possible to remain in the limelight. She staged scandals,

publicity stunts, and did everything possible to stay in the public eye. So, as much as people tried, they could not forget about Jane Mansfield. Jane did a few more roles in Hollywood, and although in some she stood out, Fox soon transferred her to English and Italian productions. These were productions that had no success, and the studio no longer trusted the actress's talent. To be continued, the company no longer trusted the actresses' talent, so the woman sought work elsewhere. She worked in television, in night shows, and at one point, decided to venture into the music world. But according to critics, this last one was not her forte. In 1962, Fox Records released the album Jane Mansfield goes to Las Vegas, and in 1964, MGM records released Jane Mansfield, Shakespeare, Chikovsky and Me.

This latter album was practically destroyed by critics. The New York Times called it three poems with a hoarse, urban, babbyish voice, and a critic added the following words, Miss Mansfield is a lady with apparent charms, but reading poetry is not one of them. Nevertheless, her most famous scandal was her participation in the 1963 movie Promises, promises, where she became the first American actress to appear naked on the big screen while playing the lead role. This film was banned in several states, and the critics relentlessly attacked Jane. But she, however, was happy with that.

Furthermore, Playboy magazine did a special feature on her inspired by that movie. This is when one nine six four arrives, the year she gets to. divorced. A new scandal unfolds and this time, just as she is separating, she discovers she is pregnant. She realizes that she is expecting her third child with Mickey Hargitay. To avoid public embarrassment, the couple pretends to still be together for a while. Once again, her physique starts to deteriorate, and as a result, she receives fewer roles. She is no longer as attractive, no longer has a sculptural body, and just when she divorces, she marries Italian director Matt Simber. On this occasion, it is said that Jane married Matt

thinking he would catapult her fame, giving her more roles, more recognition, more fame, but sadly, she did not get any of that. She did get small roles, but none of them were noteworthy. Slowly, the woman fell into a spiral of despair. She began drinking, taking painkillers, and at one point, she became aggressive with her husband, which led him to file for divorce. But don't think the drama ended there, it had just begun. In 1966, just as the divorce was signed, Jane moved into the home of her lawyer, S. Brody, who was already married. This man was married to a woman who had a disability and was also the father of two children.

This was not the first time this man had been unfaithful to his wife, but it was the first time he did so with a Hollywood star. His wife, Burley Brody, filed for divorce and created a huge scandal. The story of the romance hit all the front pages, and the critics attacked Jane. To make matters worse, that same year, Jane's eldest daughter, Jane Marie Mansfield, sued Sam Brody for committing violence against her and her mother. This made Brody out to be uncontrollable and irritable, and it caused all the newspapers to talk about this subject for weeks. It's at this point when legend and reality intertwine in a very sinister way.

As I mentioned earlier, Jane Mansfield loved to get attention. She would pretend that her clothes were falling off, wore flashy outfits, and on occasion, she would be seen with very controversial personalities. Among them was Anton Levy, the founder of the Church of Satan. In August 1963, Jane converted to Catholicism, and later became interested in Judaism. However, in 1966, during a publicity stunt, she and Sam Brody went to visit the Church of Satan. Obviously, the cameras were there to capture that moment, and they sold to the public that Jane had been appointed the high priestess of the church in San Francisco. This is when two versions emerged.

The first says that the actress did not believe in any of this and was simply seeking publicity. The second version suggests that Jane actually did believe in Anton Levy. The legend says that during this visit, Anton Levy showed them all around his house. He showed them relics, grimoires, candles, and at one point, he took them before his altar, an altar that only the devil and he could touch. If anyone else touched it, they would be marked for eternity. It is said that during this moment, Sam Brody started laughing throughout the whole tour. This man mocked Anton Levy's practices, the magic of demons, and spirits, and once they reached

the altar, he decided to test his courage. Supposedly, this altar was untouchable, but Sam extended his arms and touched two black candles. It was then that Levy uttered the famous curse, a curse saying that within a year, Sam Brody would die in a car accident, and if Jane didn't want to die too, the best thing she could do was never travel with him again. Brody obviously took this as a joke, but Jane took it very seriously. From that moment on, she frequently visited the Church of Satan, attending rituals, and becoming Anton Levy's lover. However, no matter how much she did, the curse had already been cast, and her fate was sealed. On the night of June 29, 1967, when the actress was 34 years old, a terrible accident took her

life. On June 30, Jane Mansfield had an interview on a TV show. So, very late that night, on the 29th, she got into a Buick Electra 2.25 with Sam Brody, three children, and a chauffeur. The chauffeur, Sam, Jane, and Little Miclos were in the front, two other children were in the back. At one point, they stopped for gas, and Jane woke Miklos up, sitting him in the back. At 2.25 a.m., the car started, and the driver merged onto Highway 90. Everything was dark, there were no other cars, no lights. So the driver sped up and took a curve at 130 kilometers per hour, which prevented him from seeing a truck spraying insecticide on the road. All three adults lost their lives, and all three

children survived. This is where we encounter another legend, the bloody death of Jane Mansfield. The legend says that Anton Levy, at the moment of his death, was cutting out a photograph from a newspaper. It was a photograph of him at Marilyn Monroe's funeral. He cut one side, then another, and just when he finished, he realized that on the other side of the page, there was an image of Jane Mansfield. Without even knowing it, he had decapitated her. Can you guess how Jane Mansfield supposedly died? Exactly, decapitated. Or at least, that's what the legend says. The autopsy supposedly didn't confirm decapitation but did say that her skull was crushed. The loss of the actress left thousands of people in total shock.

but also fueled the creation of a new legend, the curse of her pink palace. Do you remember her beloved mansion, the one that looked like something out of a fairy tale? Well, after the star's death, it became the last place on earth you would want to step. Many of the people who were ever linked to Jane Mansfield died tragically, car accidents, murders, suicides, abrupt deaths, and strange things started happening inside her house. On one occasion, Jane's son, Miclos, invited a friend over, and a couple of young children were playing with an electric toy car. But at one point, they began to fight, shout, and insult each other, and the girl got a lock of her hair tangled in the toy car. The children turned off the car and tried to remove the hair carefully, but suddenly, the car started moving on its own and ripped the whole lock of hair out.

Of course, this could have been a simple accident, but over time, it became the beginning of an entire legend. The next owner of the house was a bank president. Supposedly, this man was a big fan of Jane Mansfield, so he intended to preserve the house just as it was. He bought it with the furniture, the roses, the mirrors, and everything the actress had left inside, including a pink bathtub. The banker's son found a car amusing, so he got in,

drove out the front door, and decided to take a ride. But just before reaching the corner, he had an accident that cost him his life. The next owner of the mansion was Cass Elliott, a singer from the Mamas and the Pappas. Cass Elliott wanted to completely renovate the mansion, repaint it, remodel it, and while she was traveling to London, she left the renovations in the hands of her husband. Guess what happened? Exactly, a heart attack took his life before the work even began. The next woman to live in the house always had her own.

ideas, character, and personality, but when she crossed the threshold, she lost everything. Supposedly, she dyed her hair blonde, started dressing like Jane Mansfield, even sought a surgeon to perform a breast augmentation, and most shocking of all, one night, she left the mansion claiming that a ghost, the ghost of Jane Mansfield, demanded that she leave. The penultimate owner was Ringo Starr, and he, of course, wanted to remodel everything, tear down walls, remove mirrors, change furniture, and among other changes, he wanted to paint the mansion white. He applied one coat of paint, and a few days later, the pink color reappeared. He painted another coat, and the pink came back again. By the third coat, the man gave up.

It said that the last owner was the smartest of them all. Before setting foot inside, he asked a priest to bless the mansion, and nothing strange ever happened inside. Unfortunately, we can't know if the mansion's curse is real or just a strange story, as in 2002, it was demolished. Now it's your turn. What do you think of the case? Do you believe curses are real? The end, the eerie story surrounding 657 Boulevard is one of obsession, paranoia,

and a chilling mystery that remains unresolved. In this detailed retelling, I'll take you through the journey of Maria and Derek Broadus as they grappled with the terror inflicted upon them by an anonymous figure known only as The Watcher. A dream come true, Maria and Derek Broadus were a couple living a seemingly perfect life. Maria grew up in Westfield, New Jersey, before moving to New York, where she eventually met Derek. Derek had attended Fairfield University and, after years of hard work, climbed the corporate

ladder to become a vice president at an insurance company. His career success allowed them to afford a comfortable life, raising three children, two daughters and a son, in a lovely New York home. By 2014, the broadest has decided it was time to upgrade to a house befitting their rising social status. After months of searching, they found their dream home, a sprawling colonial-style mansion at 657 Boulevard in Westfield. The house was stunning, ten bedrooms, three full bathrooms, a spacious porch, a large garden, and ample room for their growing family. Priced at $1.3 million, the Brodus' plan to invest another $100,000 in renovations to make it truly their own. In May 2014, they visited the house twice, once alone and later with an architect to assess potential renovations. By June, they were ready to begin construction.

Contractors arrived on June 3rd to start tearing down walls and preparing for updates. Derek stopped by the next day to oversee progress and began moving a few items into the home. Little did he know, this seemingly ordinary evening would mark the start of his family's nightmare. The first letter, as Derek prepared to leave that night, he decided to check the mailbox. While he didn't expect any mail, considering they hadn't officially moved in, he was surprised to find a small stack of envelopes. Among the bills and advertisements, one stood out, a plain white envelope addressed in bold

handwriting. Curious and slightly uneasy, Derek brought it inside, sat down on a box, and opened it. The letter read, Dearest New Neighbors of 657 Boulevard, Allow me to welcome you to the neighborhood. 657 Boulevard has been the obsession of my family for decades, and as it approaches its 110th birthday, I have been put in charge of watching and waiting for its second coming. My grandfather watched the house in the 1920s, and my father in the 1960s. It is now my turn. Do you know the history of the house?

Do you know what lies within the walls of 657 Boulevard? Why are you here? I will find out. You have children. I have seen them. So far, I think there are three. Do you need to fill the house with the young blood I requested? Better for me. Was your old home too small for your growing family, or was it greed that brought you here? Who am I? There are hundreds of cars that pass 657 Boulevard each day. Maybe I am in one. Look at all the windows you can see from 657 Boulevard. Perhaps I am in one. Welcome, my friends. Let the party begin. Signed, the Watcher. The cryptic message sent shivers down Derek's spine. Was this a prank?

Or something more sinister? His mind raced as he dialed the local police. The investigation begins. Detective Leonard Lugo took the case. He sympathized with Derek's concerns but admitted there wasn't much to go on. The letter, while unsettling, contained no explicit threats or illegal activity. It could have been the work of a jealous neighbor or a disgruntled prospective buyer who lost out on the house.

Derek couldn't think of anyone who might harbor such animosity. The Broadasas' contacted the home's previous owners, the Woods family, to ask if they had ever received similar letters. To their surprise, the Woodses confirmed that they had. A day before they moved out, they received a note from, The Watcher, thanking them for taking care of the house and urging them to sell it to a family with young children. Like the Broadasses, the Woodses had dismissed it as a prank and thrown the letter away. The revelation only heightened Derek and Maria's unease.

They shared the details of the letter with the police but decided not to tell their children, fearing it would scare them. For now, the family tried to focus on completing the renovations and moving in. The second letter, just weeks later, another letter arrived. This time, it was addressed directly to the Broadus family. Welcome again to your new home at 657 below. The workers have been busy, and I have been watching you unload your belongings. The dumpster is a nice touch.

Have they found what is in the walls yet? In time, they will. I see you have already met the Young Blood I requested. You certainly say their names often. Allow me to learn more about them, shall I? Who has the rooms facing the street? I will know as soon as you move in. It has been years since Young Blood ruled the hallways of 657 Boulevard.

Have they played in the basement yet? If I were them, I would be scared to go down there alone. It is far away from the rest of the house. If you were upstairs, you would never hear them scream. Will they sleep in the attic? Or all together on the second floor? Who am I? I am the watcher, and I have been in control of 657 Boulevard for the better part of two decades.

The Woods family turned it over to you. It was their time to move on, and they kindly sold it when I asked them to. a happy moving in day. You know I will be watching." The level of detail in the letter was horrifying. The watcher knew their children's nicknames, details about their activities, and even referenced private spaces on the property that weren't visible from the street. Derek and Maria were now convinced that the watcher lived nearby or had access to someone who did. A web of suspicions, despite their fear, the broadasses tried to proceed with their lives. They attended neighborhood barbecues, mingled with other families, and remained vigilant.

hoping to identify the perpetrator. They even hired private investigators and consulted an FBI profiler, who suggested the watcher might be an older individual with a fixation on the house. One neighbor, Michael Langford, became a prime suspect. The Langford's lived next door, and Michael was known for his odd behavior. However, after being interviewed by the police, no evidence linked him to the letters. The investigation stalled, and the Bratissus' paranoia grew. They installed security cameras and opted not to move.

into the house. By the end of 2014, they decided to cut their losses and put 657 Boulevard back on the market. Unfortunately, word of the watcher's letters had spread, making the property nearly impossible to sell. A never-ending nightmare. In 2015, the broadesses filed a lawsuit against the Woods family, accusing them of failing to disclose the watcher's initial letter. The lawsuit brought national attention to the case, with media outlets dubbing the house, the Watcher House. This publicity further diminished any chance of selling the property. Desperate, the Broadassus considered tearing down the house and splitting the lot into two smaller properties. However, local officials denied their request, citing zoning laws and the

historic value of the home. By 2018, the family decided to rent out the house. The lease included a clause allowing tenants to break the agreement if they received letters from the watcher. It wasn't long before a new tenant moved in, and another letter arrived. To the vile and spiteful Derek and his wench of a wife Maria, you wonder who the watcher is. Turn around, idiots. Maybe you even spoke to me, one of the neighbors who doesn't know who the watcher is. Or maybe you do know and are too scared to tell anyone. The house is crying from all the pain you have caused it.

The 1960s were good years for 657 Boulevard, when I ran through its halls. The house was full of life then, before it became old and tarnished. Now, it waits for its new blood. Conclusion, to this day, the identity of the Watcher remains unknown. The Bratuses eventually sold 657 Boulevard in 2019 at a significant loss, leaving behind their dream home and a chilling mystery that has captivated the public's imagination. The saga of the Watcher serves as a haunting reminder of how quickly a dream can turn into a nightmare. An Eden's story is one that captivates, mystifies, and horrifies all at once. Born Evangelo Lucille Crowell on December 12, 1915, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania,

and's beginnings were a far cry from the glamorous, controversial life she would later lead. Her parents, Eel, a schoolteacher, and Jesse, a retired colonel turned farmer and tram driver, were modest, hardworking people. Though the Crowell family didn't have much in the way of wealth, Eel always told her daughter she could achieve anything she set her mind to. Anne, or Angie, as she was called then, was smart and strikingly beautiful. Her mother believed that those traits could open any door for her. Eel was a formidable role model.

In an era when married women were often barred from teaching, she not only obtained a degree in sociology but also became a high school teacher and principal. She was charismatic, ambitious, and entrepreneurial, even starting a taxi business during the Great Depression. Eel's resilience left a lasting impression on Angie, who decided early on that she too would make something of herself. Angie's ambition took her to Kansas City Junior College. where she graduated with excellent grades.

She began working in a junior league consignment shop, which exposed her to women from high society. Angie watched them carefully, noting their poise, their fashion, and their air of confidence. She decided she wanted to be one of them, rich, powerful, and impeccably dressed. Her resolve led her to make two significant decisions, first, to move to New York City in 1937 with just $400 to her name, and second, to reinvent herself entirely. Evangelo Lucille Crowell became an Eden, a name she deemed more sophisticated. To add an air of mystery, she started telling people she was an orphan with no ties to her past. Once in New York, and threw herself into self-improvement, taking classes in public speaking,

dance, and acting. Her efforts paid off when she signed with the John Robert Powers Modeling Agency. Modeling led to roles in radio dramas, a popular medium at the time. Anne's voice and charisma made her a recognizable name. However, New York was an expensive city, and modeling didn't pay all the bills. She took a second job as a chorus girl at the Monte Carlo Club, a hotspot for New York's elite. It was at the Monte Carlo Club that End's life took a dramatic turn. Among the club's wealthy patrons was William Woodward Sr., one of New York's richest and most influential men. Woodward was the president of Hanover Bank and owned a prestigious thoroughbred horse farm.

His family's wealth originated from a lucrative textile business that had thrived during the Civil War. Woodward Sr. was captivated by Anne's beauty and charm. After watching her perform one evening, he invited her to join him and his 21-year-old son, William, Billy, Woodward Jr., for a drink. For Anne, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. She flirted with the elder Woodward, who was clearly smitten. When Billy wasn't looking, Woodward Sr. invited and to attend one of his horse races. Thus began Anne's integration into the Woodward family's world. Rumors swirled about the nature of her relationship with Woodward Sr.

Some said they were close friends, others speculated they were lovers. Regardless, and was frequently seen in his company, which raised eyebrows among high society. Meanwhile, Woodward Sr. began to see and as a potential solution to a problem. His son Billy, the heir to the family fortune, was a reserved young man who had never been linked to any romantic partners. Some whispered that Billy preferred the company of men, but in the 1940s, such rumors could be devastating. To quash any speculation, Woodward Sr., introduced Billy to Anne. Their first date was in March 1942, and Billy, smitten by the vivacious 26-year-old chorus girl, quickly fell for her. Despite Billy's enthusiasm, his mother, Elsie, was unimpressed.

Elsie saw an as a gold digger and did everything in her power to prevent the relationship from progressing. She hired private investigators to dig into Anne's past but found nothing, and had reinvented herself so thoroughly that there were no records of her life before the Monte Carlo Club. Against his mother's wishes, Billy proposed to end in 1943, shortly after enlisting in the Navy. They married in Tacoma, Washington, in what was described as a beautiful ceremony. Elsie did not attend. The honeymoon phase didn't last long.

During their trip, Billy learned from his mother that and had been romantically involved with his father. The revelation shattered his trust in her, and their relationship became fraught with tension. However, and was determined to hold on to her newfound status. Using her experience and charm, she manipulated Billy, often resolving their arguments in the bedroom. Over time, Billy seemed to let go of his suspicions, and their marriage stabilized, at least on the surface, and gave birth to their first son, William, Woody, Woodward 3, in 1944. While Billy was deployed in the Pacific, and moved in with Elsie in New York City,

determined to fit in, she studied the Woodward's habits, adopting their mannerisms, speech, and style. By the time Billy returned, and was almost unrecognizable. Her transformation impressed him but also made him uneasy. He told her he had fallen in love with a different woman. The couple's domestic life was far from harmonious. Billy began spending more time away from home, frequenting clubs and bars. During one of these outings, he met Marina Torlonia, a stunning Italian aristocrat. Their chemistry was undeniable, and then soon became suspicious. She hired a private investigator, who confirmed her worst fears.

Furious, and confronted Billy, but their fights only drove him further away. To cope, and turn to sleeping pills. Despite their troubles, the Woodwoods maintained a facade of happiness, and gave birth to their second son, James, Jimmy Woodward, in 1947. That same year, Elsie suggested they purchased their own homes. They acquired a five-story townhouse in Manhattan and a sprawling mansion in Oyster Bay, Long Island, and began hosting lavish parties, inviting New York's elite. However, at one such event, Marina Torlonia made an appearance, and publicly accused Billy of

inviting his mistress, leading to a dramatic confrontation that ended with the couple physically fighting in front of their guests. After that incident, Billy moved out and informed and he planned to file for divorce. Anne, unwilling to lose her status and lifestyle, demanded $2 million as part of the settlement. Elsie was horrified. In the 1950s, divorce was still taboo, especially for a family as prominent as the woodweds. To protect the family's reputation, Elsie persuaded Billy to reconcile with Anne. In 1952, the couple took a six-week trip to India in an attempt to repair their marriage. In 1953, Woodward Sr. died of a heart attack, leaving Billy as the sole heir. With his inheritance, Billy purchased a private plane

and continued investing in thoroughbred racing. Their prized horse, Nashua, became a sensation, winning 16 races and earning nearly $800,000 in prize money. And relished the attention and the that came with it, but their personal life remained strained. By 1955, Billy had had enough. During a trip to Kansas to purchase a new plane, he decided to look into Anne's past. He discovered that she was not an orphan as she had claimed. Her father was alive, and much of what she had told him was a lie. Armed with this information, Billy consulted his lawyer, who assured him he could divorce and without paying her assent Billy returned to Oyster Bay determined to end the marriage. Around this time, the Woodwood's neighborhood was plagued by reports of a prowler.

Residents claimed someone was trespassing, peering into windows, and rummaging through their belongings. On the night of October 30, 1955, Billy and Ann attended a party. They seemed amicable, even discussing their theories about the prowler. However, tensions resurfaced when Billy took a phone call from his mistress. And, furious, poured champagne over his head. The couple left the party in silence. Back at home, they retired to separate bedrooms. Around 3 a.m., and was startled by the sound of their dog barking and what she believed were footsteps upstairs. Gripped by fear, she grabbed a shotgun and crept into the hallway. In the dim light, she saw a shadowy figure and, without hesitation, fired twice. To her horror, the figure was Billy. Panicked,

she called the police but struggled to explain what had happened. When authorities arrived, they found Billy's body in the hallway, shot in the face. And, clad in a blood-stained nightgown, insisted it had been an accident. She claimed she thought Billy was the prowler. However, the circumstances were suspicious. If Billy had heard a noise, he would have armed himself with the revolver on his bedside table. Additionally, firing twice suggested intent rather than panic. Despite these inconsistencies, and had powerful allies. Renowned attorney Sol Rosenblot arrived at the scene, asserting that and was a high-society woman who needed medical care, not jail time. He ensured she was taken to a hospital instead of a holding cell.

Meanwhile, evidence that could have implicated and mysteriously disappeared, including a bottle of sleeping pills from her nightstand. The case-dominated headlines, dubbed the shooting of the century. Public opinion was divided. Some believed and story, others were convinced she had murdered Billy in cold blood. Elsie, who learned of her son's death through the newspapers, was vocal in her disdain for Anne. She pushed for custody of her grandsons, Woody and Jimmy, ultimately sending them to boarding school in Switzerland. In November 1955, a grand jury ruled Billy's death and accident, and was acquitted. She inherited Billy's fortune, including the Manhattan Townhouse and Oyster Bay Mansion. However, her

reputation was irreparably damaged. High society ostracized her, and she spent the next two years in seclusion. In 1958, an attempted to rejoin social circles by attending a party hosted by Elsie. She hoped for reconciliation but was met with hostility. Many guests believed she had killed Billy intentionally, theorizing that he had threatened to divorce her and leave her penniless. The stigma followed in wherever she went. Her story caught the attention of writer Truman Capote, who used her as inspiration for a thinly veiled character in one of his works. Furious, and confronted him, but Capote's portrayal cemented her infamy. In 1975, unable to escape her past, and took her own life by ingesting cyanide.

Her death reignited interest in the case, with newspapers revisiting the scandal that had defined her life. Tragically, the Woodward family's misfortune didn't end there. In 1976, Jimmy, then 29, died by suicide. Decades later, in 1999, Woody also took his own life. The family's legacy remains one of wealth, tragedy, and unanswered questions. Chuck Morgan's story is one of those mysteries that gets under your skin. The kind where the more you dig, the weirder it gets, and before you know it, you're questioning everything.

So, let's break it down. Chuck Morgan wasn't your typical guy caught up in drama. He was a 39-year-old husband, father of four, and a successful escrow agent in Tucson, Arizona. His job. Making sure housing transactions went small. smoothly, think of him as the middleman ensuring buyers and sellers got what they were promised. He lived for his family in his work, had no known vices or shady habits, and, by all accounts, led a perfectly ordinary life.

Until he didn't. The disappearance, March 22, 1977, that day started like any other. Chuck got up, had breakfast with his wife Ruth and their kids, dropped two of his daughters off at school, and headed to work. But he never made it there. Somewhere along the way, Chuck vanished. Just like that. For three days, nobody had a clue where he was.

His family was frantic, and after 48 hours, they reported him missing. Then, as mysteriously as he disappeared, Chuck reappeared, at 2 a.m. on the third night. But this wasn't the Chuck Morgan his wife knew. Ruth heard the dog barking like crazy. Then there was a loud thud at the back door. Rushing downstairs, she found Chuck standing there, looking like he'd been through hell. He was missing a shoe, had plastic handcuffs around his wrists and ankles, and couldn't speak. He gestured to his throat and shook his head when Ruth asked if he could talk.

What he did next sent chills down her spine, he grabbed a pen and paper and wrote, they put a hallucinogenic drug on my throat. If I talk, it could kill me. Ruth wanted to call the police or get him medical help, but Chuck panicked, insisting it would endanger the whole family. Over the next few days, he explained, in writing, of course, that he'd been killed. kidnapped, tortured, and drugged. His captors, whom he referred to only as, they, had kept him near Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport. He didn't reveal much else about these people, but he made

it clear they were dangerous. Then came the bombshell, Chuck claimed he was working as an undercover agent for the U.S. Treasury Department. He said he'd been helping investigate financial crimes and had been on the job for about three years. According to him, his abductors had stolen his government ID, so he had no proof of this secret life. Life after the first kidnapping, for a while, life returned to some semblance of normalcy. Chuck started talking again after a week and went back to work. But things had clearly changed. He was paranoid.

He avoided routine, constantly checked the windows, and even started wearing disguises, wigs, hats, you name it. He forbade his kids from walking to school alone and warned his wife that if anything happened to him, there was a letter hidden in the house that explained everything. But if such a letter existed, it never surfaced. In May 1977, just two months after the first disappearance, Chuck vanished again. This time, it was for good. The second disappearance and a sinister phone call, the morning Chuck disappeared, he seemed fine. He had breakfast with the family, chatted with everyone, and left for work, saying he'd be late by about 30 minutes. He never

showed up. Days passed, and there was no sign of him, again. Then, nine days after he went missing, Ruth received a chilling phone call. A woman's voice, calm and deliberate, said, Chuck is all right. Ecclesiastes 12, verses 1 through 8. Then she hung up. Ruth grabbed a Bible and looked up the passage, which is a poetic reflection on aging and mortality. While the message didn't make much sense, Ruth clung to the hope that her husband might still be alive. That Hope was shattered two days later, on June 18th, when Chuck's body was found in the Arizona desert, 65 kilometers from Tucson. The scene of the crime, Chuck was discovered lying next to his car, dead from a single gunshot

wound to the back of his head. The gun. His own .357 Magnum. It was clean, too clean. No fingerprints, not even Chuck's, were found on it. He was wearing a bulletproof vest, which made the suicide theory floated by the authorities seem even more bizarre. The scene was full of odd details. A pair of sunglasses was found near the body, glasses that didn't belong to Chuck. Inside the car, police found ammunition,

handcuffs, and one of Chuck's teeth wrapped in a handkerchief. A folded $2 bill was pinned to his underwear. Written on it were a list of Spanish names, labeled from A to G, and the phrase Ecclesiastes 12. If that wasn't strange enough, Chuck had two maps in his pockets, both marking the U.S. Mexico border near Nogales, a known hub for smuggling at the time. The most perplexing clue. Chuck had a piece of paper with the exact coordinates of where his body was found. The investigation, or lack thereof, despite the glaring inconsistencies, the local sheriff's department quickly ruled Chuck's death a suicide. Their reasoning. He had gunpowder residue on his left hand. But there was a glaring problem with this theory, Chuck was right-handed. Also, shooting oneself in the

back of the head is no easy feat, especially for someone in a distressed state. The case was closed, but the questions didn't stop. Who were, they? Why was Chuck wearing a bulletproof vest? Why did he carry maps of smuggling routes? And most importantly, who was the woman who called Ruth, identifying herself as, Green Eyes. Green Eyes speaks again. Two days after Chuck's body was found, the mysterious woman called the police.

She claimed that Chuck had met her at a motel before his death and showed her a briefcase full of cash, enough, he said, to pay off a hitman who had been hired to kill him. Police investigated the motel and found witnesses who confirmed seeing Chuck there with a woman matching green eyes description. But beyond that, the lead went cold. Strange aftermath, as if the case wasn't already bizarre enough, things took an even darker turn. Chuck's car, which had been impounded by the police, was mysteriously vandalized. Windows smashed, doors pried open. It was as if someone was looking for something. Then FBI agents showed up at the Morgan home, for the place apart, and left without explanation.

Ruth was left in the dark. The police had no suspects, no clear motives, and no answers. By August 1977, the case was officially closed. The context of the era, Arizona in the 1970s, before delving deeper into the hypotheses surrounding Chuck Morgan's death, it's essential to understand the environment in which it occurred. In the 1970s, Arizona was a hotspot for illegal activities such as drug smuggling, arms trafficking, and money laundering. Its proximity to the Mexican border made it a strategic region for international mafias. Furthermore, local and federal authorities were frequently

under suspicion of corruption, with some officials seemingly looking the other way, when it came to illicit operations. Chuck, with his work related to property transfers and his alleged undercover role in financial investigations, was in a very precarious position. Any mistake or exposure of information could have immediately made him a target. The strange behavior of Green Eyes, much speculation surrounds the identity of this mysterious woman. Some believe that Green Eyes was an alias used by a government agent or even a member of a criminal organization. While she seemed to be helping Chuck by warning his family about his state, her exact role remains a mystery. Why did she specifically mention Ecclesiastes 12?

Some experts suggest it might have been a kind of coded message. This chapter of the Bible speaks about mortality and the return of the soul to its creator, which could have been an indirect way of warning that Chuck was in imminent danger. However, it has also been theorized that the message held a more personal meaning, possibly related to Chuck's guilt or his preparation to face his fate. The puzzling clues at the crime scene. When analyzing the crime scene, every detail appears stranger than the last. The gunshot wound to the back of the head, as previously mentioned,

shooting oneself in the back of the head is a very unusual method of suicide. Additionally, Chuck was right-handed, making it even less likely that he could have shot himself in such a manner. The absence of fingerprints on the gun, if Chuck indeed took his own life, his fingerprints should have been on the 0.357 magnum. However, the gun was completely clean, which makes no sense in a suicide case. The bulletproof vest, why would he wear a bulletproof vest if he intended to end his life? This suggests that Chuck anticipated some kind of confrontation or imminent danger before his death. The items found in his underwear, the bills, maps, and coordinates seem more like the work

of someone trying to send a message in case their body was discovered. But why hide these items in his underwear? Some believe it was his way of protecting crucial information, assuming that his captors or killers wouldn't search there. The tooth wrapped in a handkerchief, this detail is particularly disturbing. Why would someone pull out their own tooth? One theory suggests that Chuck may have done this as a way to show resistance. to his captors or as a desperate attempt to leave clues about his state.

The alleged role of the CIA, one of the most discussed hypotheses is the possibility that Chuck Morgan was involved with the CIA. If this were true, his death could be related to covert operations gone wrong. The CIA has been accused on several occasions of using individuals like Chuck for illicit financial operations, such as money laundering and fund transfers through real estate. In the 1970s, multiple scandals implicated the agency, including its role in drug and arms trafficking during the Cold War. If Chuck was indeed working for the CIA, it's possible he uncovered something he wasn't supposed to, which made him a threat to the organization. His death, therefore, could have been a cover-up to protect larger, more complex

operations. The organized crime theory, another theory suggests that Chuck was knowingly or unknowingly involved with local and international mafias. Arizona at the time was a hub for smuggling activities, many of which were linked to mafia families that used legitimate businesses, such as real estate, to launder money. If Chuck knew too much or, worse, was considering testifying against these organizations, his death could have been a warning to others. The items found at the crime scene, such as the maps and marked bills, may have been an attempt to incriminate him posthumously or divert attention from the real perpetrators. The role of the FBI and irregularities in the investigation, the FBI's presence at the Morgan household and their

destruction of potential evidence raise many questions. Ruth Morgan stated that the agents arrived unannounced, stormed into her home, and left everything in disarray. This is not only unusual but also suggests that the FBI was searching for something specific. Why would they act this way if they weren't involved in the case somehow? Some believe the agents were attempting to eliminate any evidence that connected Chuck to government or criminal operations.

Moreover, the fact that the case was closed so quickly and labeled a suicide despite the numerous inconsistencies makes the authorities' involvement seem even more suspicious. Subsequent deaths related to the case, the pattern of strange deaths didn't end with Chuck. Other individuals linked to the case also died under mysterious circumstances, such as the graphic artist found dead in his car or journalist Dan Castellaro. Casillaro, in particular, had been investigating a network known as, The Octopus, which supposedly connected the U.S. government with illegal activities on an international scale. His death, like Chuck's, was ruled a suicide, but many believe he was murdered because of what he knew.

The connection to the biblical passage, Ecclesiastes 12 remains one of the most enigmatic aspects of the case. Some believe it was included as a coded message, while others think it held a more symbolic meaning related to mortality and the futility of human actions. Regardless of its interpretation, the fact that both green eyes, and the bills found that the crime scene referenced this passage suggests it was an important element in understanding what happened to Chuck. Conclusion, a case without clear answers. The case of Chuck Morgan remains one of the strangest mysteries of the 1970s.

The multiple theories, ranging from CIA involvement to organized crime, paint a complicated and contradictory picture. Ruth Morgan spent the rest of her life searching for answers but never found the full truth about what happened to her husband. Ultimately, Chuck Morgan's death could result from a combination of factors, a man caught between his role in finances, possible government involvement, and criminal organization activities. However, the truth likely died with him and those who tried to dig deeper into the case. It was as if someone was standing at the foot of the bed, looking at him, and indeed, when he opened his

eyes, there he was, a serious man with black hair and a penetrating gaze, a man pointing to the window as if indicating to David that there was something outside that he wanted, something he desperately needed. And it was then when a loud bang made him disappear, a noise very similar to a gunshot. We begin this story at the start of 1999, when David Oman fell in love with some land located on Cielo Drive. At that time, he was unemployed, but he had some savings, so he decided to invest them in building his new home. For three years, he worked from dawn till dusk to make his dream come true, building his new house brick by brick, and finally, in 2002, he placed the last brick.

He was so excited that, after finishing the construction, he decided to throw a big party. Unfortunately, the festive atmosphere he intended to create was never present, as it seemed that his new house was. Underscore underscore, about the story of David Oman, Little has been published. The only thing we know about him is that he studied at Menlo College in California and worked for 12 years as a private investigator. However, after working on very complicated cases, he decided to retire and write articles independently for local newspapers.

His great passion was always cooking, so one day, he opened his own restaurant. But mentally, the business didn't go well, and he had to close it. And this brings us to 1999. At that time, David still thought he had to do something big with his life, that he had to create a legacy for his children. So, he decided to invest all his savings in purchasing land to build the house of his dreams. For months, he searched for the perfect location, and he finally found it on Cielo Drive, not far from the luxurious Beverly Hills. When hearing this name, many of you might think that the land must have cost a fortune, but the truth is, it cost him

$40,000. David didn't remember where he had heard the name Cialo Drive before, it sounded very familiar, but he couldn't recall why he had been there before or if he knew anyone who had lived there. There was no way to remember. So, over time, he decided to forget about it, at least until 2002, when the construction was completed. According to him, the house was magical, full of rooms with incredible views, as you can imagine.

He was really eager to show it to his friends, so he organized a party to inaugurate it properly. It took him several months to clean the whole house, and finally, at the beginning of August, everything was ready to welcome his dear guests. The party had to be perfect. So, a couple of hours before everyone arrived, he dedicated himself to tidying up and preparing food. However, just as he was finishing everything up, someone knocked at the door. At first, he thought maybe he had imagined it since he wasn't expecting anyone, but the knocking came again, this time more insistently. So, he left everything and ran to open it, but when he did,

he noticed there was no one there. Two hours later, the guests arrived. David didn't intend to invite hundreds of people, only his closest friends, Linda, his girlfriend, Jeff Mandel, Lauren, Raquel, and Kashmir White. They drank, ate, and danced until they couldn't anymore. David allowed everyone to tour the house, saying, My house is your house. So, it's not surprising that, at one point, Lauren went into the kitchen to pour herself another glass of wine. It was then that things took a sinister turn.

The young woman, while uncorking the bottle and filling her glass, said she turned around to look out the window and saw feet walking outside the house. It was then when she inevitably started screaming. Why? It was easy. because the kitchen window was about 20 or 30 feet above the ground, so it was physically impossible to see feet walking outside, as if the kitchen were semi-buried. As expected, no one took her seriously, and they quickly took her wine away, clearly thinking the alcohol had gone to her

head. But Lauren was convinced that what she had seen was real, that someone's feet were walking through the air. After the party, David, with Linda's help, cleaned everything up, as the guests have left everything in disarray. The couple organized to clean up much faster, making constant trips to the kitchen to carry plates, glasses, and cutlery. It was during one of these trips that a wine glass, which had been on the counter, flew toward David, hitting the wall behind him, causing him to freeze.

How the hell had that happened? It was strange, and there was no explanation for what had just occurred. But there were the glass shards and the large stain of wine on the, the wall. David and Linda didn't give it much importance. They probably had rational explanations they couldn't see at that moment, so they decided to act normally. Linda was very tired, so she went to sleep upstairs while David stayed in the living room watching TV. Half an hour later, the bedroom door opened wide, and footsteps slowly walked to the foot of the bed. Linda, who was lying on her back, couldn't help but smile, thinking that David was

playing one of his pranks, imagining him wearing a mask and posing in a Frankenstein-like manner. However, the minutes passed, and David remained standing there, silent. So Linda sat up, reached for her glasses from the nightstand, put them on, and turned around. That was when she discovered that the presence wasn't David, but a man she had never seen before. He was standing there, looking at her. God knows how long he had been standing there while she pretended to be asleep. She reached for the light switch, and as soon as she turned it on, he disappeared as if he had never been there. David began to worry about what was happening in his dream home. Objects were moving on their own, his keys were disappearing, and multiple knocks and

whispers were heard everywhere. So, he started his own investigation. What was causing these inexplicable events? Why his house and not someone else is? That's when he found an article dated August 10, 1969, reporting five deaths in Beverly Hills. Apparently, on the night of Saturday, the 9th, the terrible crimes committed by the Manson family occurred, murders that took place right on his street, where five people lost their lives, including Sharon Tate, the wife of director Roman Polansky. That's when he understood why the name Cialo Drive sounded so familiar. What he didn't understand was why his house was the center of these paranormal events, why his house and not the real one. Then he found two key points. The first was that the old villa where

Sharon Tate and Roman Polansky had lived was demolished in 1994, and for years, the plot was a complete desert. But eventually, someone bought it and built a large mansion. The second point was that when everything started in David's house, there were two coincidences with respect to the night of the crime. If you remember, the crime took place in early August, around the time of David's inaugural party. Moreover, the victims of the crime were two women and three men, and David's guests were two women and two men, making three in total. Too many coincidences, don't you think? Mr. Oman quickly found an explanation for everything. During the house's construction, no one felt anything. No worker reported any paranormal activity, even

during the months when he lived alone in the house. Everything was perfect. However, on the day of the party, everything changed. This made him think that, in some way, they had all unknowingly invoked the ghosts of the Manson family. One night, David invited his friends Jeff and Kashmir over to watch a movie. About halfway through, they began hearing incomprehensible voices, electrical voices talking to each other, right by the entrance of the house. The three men stood up and went to check. They searched everywhere until they realized the sound was coming from the video intercom.

It was as if someone from the upper floors had disconnected the intercom and was speaking through it. The men quickly went upstairs, searched everywhere for the supposed pranksters, but guess what? The entire house was empty. When they went back down to the living room, the voices had stopped. So the three friends sat back down, ready to finish watching the movie. but it seemed that something, or someone, didn't want them to. From the video intercom came a deep breath, forced and ragged, as if its owner were dying. That's when the three men stood up again, debating who would go to check.

None of them wanted to go, they were terrified. But Jeff gathered his courage and went toward the hallway. However, as soon as he took two steps, a strong wind pushed him and threw him to the floor. David Oman became obsessed with the history of 1050, Cielo Drive and what happened there on August 9th, 1969. One day, he decided to install cameras all around the house with the help of his friend Jeff, but things wouldn't be that easy. While installing the cameras, an invisible force tried to tear the camera out of Jeff's hands. The man fought with all his might to keep the camera from flying through the air and miraculously managed to hold onto it. When, days later, David reviewed the footage, he didn't see ghosts or shadows, but he did hear a female voice, broken and frightened, saying the following words, Jeffrey, don't shoot me.

That same night, when David got into bed, he couldn't stop thinking about that voice, a voice that sounded so familiar, making him wonder if it could have been Sharon Tate's voice. Around 3 a.m., the sound of footsteps woke him up. It didn't sound like a ghost but like a real person, one who had clearly snuck into his house. So, David reached under the bed, grabbed his shotgun, ready to defend his home. Then, he stood up and silently walked through the whole house. However, he couldn't find the owner of the footsteps. He returned to the bedroom, closed the door behind him,

and got back into bed. But this time, he couldn't keep his eyes closed for long, as an uncomfortable feeling washed over him, as if someone were standing at the foot of his bed, looking at him. And indeed, when he opened his eyes, there he was, a serious man with black hair and a penetrating gaze, a man pointing to the window, as if telling David that there was something outside that he wanted, something he desperately needed. And it was then when a loud bang made him disappear, a noise very similar to a gunshot. David needed to know if that

man could have been real, if that man had truly existed. So, he asked a police friend of his to let him accessed the Manson Family Crime File, and on one of the pages, he found the man he saw that night. His name was Jay Sebring, and he was a celebrity hairstylist. According to the executioner's testimony, as soon as they entered the house, they forced everyone to lie down, and that's when Siebring protested, asking the intruders to have mercy, especially since she was pregnant. But no one listened, and they shot him while he was on the ground, bleeding. The assailants then kicked him several times. However, the blows didn't kill him, so they resorted to a knife and stabbed him seven times. At this point, David decided to take action and contacted Almari, a psychic.

As soon as she entered the house, she said she felt an extreme cold, and that the house was full of people. But among that crowd, she saw a woman running from one side to the other. She then organized a seance to try and contact that woman. At first, everything went well as Alma had no idea what was happening. She asked for the names of the people who had been living there, and in response, the candle flames bent, and the lights flickered. But then the woman asked, is your name Sharon Tate? And the response was a loud bang, as multiple objects were thrown through the air and several attendees were attacked by invisible forces, including Alma herself, who said she felt a sharp pain in her stomach, a pain that

spread all over as if she were being stabbed, reliving what the five victims of the Manson family must have felt. From then on, David Oman began sharing his story with the rest of the world, turning his house into a paranormal museum, making appearances on programs like ghost adventures and even creating his own YouTube channel, where he publishes updates on his investigations every week. He has also written and produced a horror film, House at the end of the drive, based on his own experiences. Although it's worth noting that his story is so controversial that he has many detractors, including Sharon Tate's fans and her family, who have repeatedly asked him to stop talking about her and to tear down the house. But now it's your turn. What do you think about

this case? Do you believe that David Oman's house is haunted, or is it just a setup? The end. Around April 2018, the case of Fernanda Mail was already known throughout Latin America. By that time, the young woman had either already given birth or was about to. All hospitals were on alert, it was a complicated pregnancy, so she urgently needed medical assistance. She couldn't give birth in a room or a bathroom because both she and the baby could die. But then, on the 20th of that same month, the police received a truly strange tip. Let's begin.

Given the huge amount of information we have today, we won't do an introduction, we'll go straight to presenting the victim of this case. Fernanda de Maris Male Korea was born on May 9, 1996, in Santiago, Chile, as the second daughter of Paola Korea and Unhell Oliver Mail. Three years after her birth, her parents divorced. According to several sources, it's from this point on that Fernando lost interest in school, became rebellious, etc., etc., etc., etc. But at that time, she was barely three years old, so saying,

that makes no sense. At three years old, you hardly understand anything, not your parents' divorce or changes in your living situation, so it couldn't affect you at the level many people claim. What we do know for sure is that Fernando was never a good student. She tried really hard, but never got high grades. However, her attitude drastically changed in 2007, when she had just turned 11. At that time, according to her mother, Fernanda wasn't focused on school, she was more into making new friends, going out, and walking around. She became very distant and would get angry over anything. Seeing the situation was getting out of hand, Paula Correa asked for help from her daughter's school. From there, Fernanda was referred to

C-name. For those who don't know what C-name is, it's an organization for child protection. It's a center where they organize activities and meetings with kids to keep them off the streets. The goal is to help children engage with school, family, and healthy habits. At first, this helped Fernanda a lot. But as she grew, her problems grew with her. In seventh grade, she would sneak out of the house when she thought her mother was asleep. In eighth grade, her school performance was so poor that she had to repeat the year. On July 2, 2012, one of the most tragic events in Fernanda Demaris Males' life occurred,

her father passed away from a stroke. This hit her so hard that she not only tattooed his name on one of her fingers, but her personality also became harsher, she became irritable and uncontrollable. Everyone who knew her said she was a good girl, but her emotions overwhelmed her. After finishing school, she decided to start working, eventually landing a job making cocktails at a bar during the night shift. That's when, according to Paola Korea, she made some very negative friends. From that point on, no one could tell her anything, any comment became an argument.

But then came 2017, and with it, her personality seemed to soften a bit, and here's why. In 2017, Fernando Mail began a romantic relationship with a 36-year-old taxi driver named Louise Peterson. He had a 14-year-old son, but this didn't seem to bother Fernanda. He treated her well, was a hard worker, honest, and they shared me. many common interests. Soon after they started dating, the couple was so enthusiastic that they decided to move and together. But that's when things started getting complicated between them. According to Fernanda's friends, Luis was very possessive and controlling, and Fernanda became obsessed with the idea that he was going to cheat on her, or already was. Things turned even

darker when she found out she was pregnant. On September 1st, 2017, Fernanda Males started working at the Johnny Rockets at Santiago International Airport. Everything was going well until one day, she started feeling dizzy, anxious, and tired. At first, she didn't think much of it, but she eventually took a pregnancy test, and it came back positive. That's when two separate conflicts began, one with Luis, who didn't seem ready to have a second child, and another with her new employers. Fernanda's contract was only for two months, but once they found out she was pregnant, they decided to fire her early. She sued them for unfair dismissal and won the case.

Not only was she not fired, but her contract was extended to six months after giving birth. The second conflict was with Luis Peterson. According to Fernandez friends, at first, he didn't take the news of the pregnancy well. Even though he renovated his house to underscore underscore, the baby, he began behaving strangely toward Fernandez. He didn't look at her the same, didn't spend as much time with her, and was very distant. That's when, according to many witnesses, Fernanda began having serious jealousy episodes. A friend of hers, also a taxi driver, picked her up several times after fights with Luis, even dropping her off two streets away from his house so she could spy on him.

One of Luis's aunt said that during an argument, Fernando went completely crazy and scratched Luis's car. In early February 2018, Fernando de Maris Males started withdrawing, she was quiet, downcast, not talking as much. She didn't seem like herself. She used to always chat during meals, but those days, she was silent. Her phone was on silent too. Paola Korea knew this wasn't normal behavior for Fernanda, so she began keeping a closer eye on her. Every time she left the house, Paola would look out the window to see where and with whom she was going, she was afraid her daughter had gotten into trouble. This continued until February 10th of that year. At 5.30 p.m., Fernanda grabbed her phone and walked out the door. She didn't take her purse or

wallet, so everyone assumed she was just going out for a quick walk and would return. But hours passed, and there was no sign of Fernanda. They called her phone, no answer. They called her friends, none of them knew where she was. They called her boyfriend, he didn't answer. So, Paola Correa quickly contacted the police and reported her daughter's disappearance. Normally, the authorities wait 24 hours before investigating a missing person. But this case was different, we're talking about a seven months pregnant girl who was about to give birth in two months, with a very high-risk pregnancy. She needed rest and could not be exposed to anything that might harm the baby.

That's when police began the investigation, questioning neighbors, checking the area, and 13 hours after Fernanda disappeared, they discovered that the street had lots of surveillance cameras. They confiscated the footage and saw that in one of the recordings, Fernanda Mail appears, she walks out of her house and calmly turns a corner. Hours after she vanishes from the frame, a bicycle appears going in the opposite direction, then returns later. But what really got the police's attention was the appearance.

of a taxi right outside Fernanda's house. The taxi stops, several people get out, enter the house, chaos erupts, the family runs out, they stay there for a while, and then they all get back into the taxi and leave. The investigation then focused on finding out who owned that vehicle, what connection he had to the victim, and why he went to the house. Two hypotheses were considered. First, that the owner of the car was Fernando Males's taxi driver friend, the one of the one one who took her to the hospital many times and dropped her near Luis's house. But when police found him, he had an alibi, so he was ruled out. Then, it was finally clarified that the taxi belonged to Luis Peterson.

Apparently, when this man found out Fernanda was missing, he went to find her mother, and together they searched the whole city. He picked her up, drove to the house, they gathered some things, and left again. They spent hours looking for Fernanda. But while this may have looked good to the public, there was already a suspect, and that was Luis Peterson. The media started noticing many inconsistencies in his statements. On camera, he said he and Fernanda had a good, healthy relationship, that they were happy

and had no problems. But Fernanda's friends said otherwise, they fought, were jealous, and had a toxic, unhealthy relationship. Louise told reporters that the moment Paola called him, he went straight to her. house and helped search. But Paola said that wasn't true, it took hours for her to get in touch with him, and more hours for him to help look for her daughter. Luis also said on camera that when he found out he was going to be a father again, he started renovating his house so all three of them could live together. He claimed he had everything planned and that Fernando was involved in the

renovations. But Fernanda's friend said something very different, that the house had been under renovation long before Luis even met her. Every time Luis appeared on TV, people criticized him more, criticizing his arrogant attitude, his contradictions, and evasive answers. According to many, Luis Peterson looked like a suspect, and the main thing against him was that only a short time had passed since Fernanda had disappeared, and he was already speaking about her in the past tense, as if he knew she was dead. But all of this was still part of public opinion, the police had not made any official statement. So if he truly was a suspect, that information had not yet been made public. To be continued. According to many, Louise Peterson looks like a suspect, and the main reason

against him is that shortly after Fernanda disappeared, he was already speaking about her in the past tense as if he knew the girl was already dead. But all of this was part of public opinion, as the police had not yet made a statement. So, if he really was a suspect, this fact was not yet public. Around April 2018, the case of Fernanda Maciel was already known throughout Latin America. At that time, the young woman had either already given birth or was about to. So all hospitals were alerted, it was a complicated pregnancy, and she urgently needed medical assistance. She couldn't give birth in a room or a bathroom because both she and the baby could die. But then, on the 20th of that same month, the police received a truly strange

tip, several witnesses claimed that Fernanda Maciel was juggling in a public square located in the city of San Carlos de Berlach in Argentina. Paola Korea, upon seeing the photos they gave her, really came to think that this girl was her daughter. But she quickly traveled from Chile to Argentina and found that the woman was not her. That was very strange. Reviewing the images where Fernanda Maciel appeared, from the security cameras, they saw that the young woman was heading toward Yama Street, just a few meters from her home. The path there was very short, so the police focused on searching the nearby area, checking neighbors' houses, asking everyone. The girl really seemed to have not left the neighborhood. But unfortunately, as soon as the police

focused on this neighborhood, a large number of false leads began to emerge, contradictory testimonies, wrong assumptions. Since it was a case that had been broadcast on the media for minute one, everyone wanted to know absolutely everything about Fernanda Maciel. They knew everything about her, her loved ones, her boyfriend, her friends, and they felt free to give their opinions about the case and, of course, to create hypotheses. Some said they saw her in one place, others in another. It was complete chaos. So starting in June 2018, the searches began. On June 12th, the police, together with the PDI, searched the Karen Lagoon. But they found nothing there, so they searched in Henshrabba but also found nothing.

Missing, posters continued to be placed throughout Latin America. Her name was heard on the radio, on television, and online. It was such a well-known and controversial case that cruel pranks were not long in coming. In October, Paula Correa and Luis Peterson received an email with a photograph of a baby who was supposedly Fernanda Maciel's daughter. This could not be proven, but the pain that image caused could hardly be forgotten. Going back to the body searches, it's worth noting that in October 2018 the police realized that, in the recordings, Fernanda Maciel was heading to the street next door. It made no sense to search for the young woman all over the place far from her home when it

seemed more than clear that this girl had gone just next door. Being seven months pregnant with a complicated pregnancy, swollen feet, and back pain, she couldn't have gone far. So they focused the search on Yima Street, specifically in a place the girl used to frequent, the warehouse. Reviewing the recordings, it appears that when the girl is about to disappear around the corner, some dogs appear, who coincidentally guard the warehouse. So the authorities searched the premises and found that the soil of the garden was disturbed in four different spots. That's when they began excavations. The four disturbed spots were excavated, but they found nothing.

On October 20th, the police interrogated Francisco, the owner of the warehouse. This man said that during the time Fernanda disappeared, he was not in Chile, as he was on vacation with his family. So they asked him if he had left the keys with someone he trusted. The man responded that yes, he had given them to a young man from the same neighborhood, a young man named Felipe Rojas. It was the first time in the entire case that this name came to light. And it's worth noting that, for the police, this young man didn't seem suspicious at any time.

He worked in the mornings, studied in the afternoons, was a responsible, diligent guy with no criminal record, and coincidentally lived in the house next to Fernandez. He had been friends with her for years, and everyone who knew him said he couldn't hurt a fly. He was reserved, friendly, a really good guy. And when the police interrogated him, they realized this guy seemed to have an alibi. He said that he was supposed to meet Fernanda that day, but, in the end, it didn't happen. He showed WhatsApp messages that supposedly proved they didn't meet, and he was quickly dismissed as a suspect. Though later on, we'll see that he began to behave really strangely. But let's not get ahead of ourselves and continue with the story.

At the beginning of 2019, several new hypotheses. emerged about the disappearance of Fernanda Maciel. Until then, Luis Peterson had been considered a suspect. The media condemned him, the prosecution had him in their sights. Then Felipe Rojas appeared, who worked in the warehouse and was very close to Fernando. But then new theories emerged, which I'll now summarize. First, it was said that Fernando was trafficking or hiding merchandise for a drug trafficker and that days before disappearing, people saw her arguing with him in a public place because she had supposedly lost the package. So probably this man had killed her.

The second theory considered was that this girl died due to revenge. Fernando was very close to a man named Maximiliano Quavis, who was a member of the Flores drug gang. But what happened? Maximiliano was dating Francesca Oralana, who was very jealous. Francesca, on more than one occasion, had jealous outbursts with Maximiliano and accused him of cheating. It said Francesca went to Fernanda's house to threaten her with a knife and may have killed her. But at the time Fernanda disappeared, Francesca was in prison, so she could

not have killed her. The third theory is that Fernanda could have been a victim of a website called Nido.org. According to several sources, this was a site where influential people ordered kidnappings to do all kinds of crazy things to the victims. And at the time Fernanda disappeared, her name appeared on the page. However, none of this could be proven, and all the theories ended up being considered mere conjecture. Many psychics appeared on Chilean TV, trying to help find Fernanda's body with supposed powers. Vanessa Darrow claimed to feel suffocated by Fernanda's presence. Others said the spirit was very close to her own house. But then something very strange happened. On February 19th of that same year, while psychic

Isaac Ismail Torres was giving his impressions on a Channel 13 program, the microphones picked up a strange whisper. We couldn't rule out, not finding this, this object of such magnitude. Even though it wasn't the first time something like this happened on Chilean TV, that video clip went viral, and dozens of people commented on what they believed the voice was saying. Some said it said she was in the warehouse, others said she had always been there, and another group claimed it was saying, keep trying. But the truth of what happened to the young woman wouldn't come to light until June 24th of that year. That day, after carrying out a final excavation in the warehouse, Fernando Maseel's body was found under a layer of cement and quicklime.

The autopsy revealed that the body had clear signs of violence, specifically a blow to the head and strangulation marks. The police quickly arrested the alleged perpetrator, and it wasn't Luis Peterson, it was Felipe Rojas. To this day, we still don't know for certain who exactly it was, so directly accusing him might be jumping the gun. But what does seem certain is that what exposed him was his ex-girlfriend, a girl named Natalia. According to her, what happened was the following, he started crying and told her that Fernanda hit her head, he didn't know if on a chair or table, and started convulsing. When he tried to pick her up, she urinated and then passed away. He said he was very high and made bad decisions.

He wrapped her in some cloths, dug a hole, destroyed his hands doing it, and buried her. At that moment, he took Fernandez phone, formatted it, and sold it at a flea market, then returned home by bicycle. From here, the information incriminating him seems to be a mess. There are many different versions, viewpoints, supposed recordings I haven't found, but I'll try to summarize it so we can understand it better. Supposedly the police have the following points against him. Point one, according to the police, when Fernanda disappears around the corner, the warehouse guarding dogs appear. At that moment, the warehouse owner is not in Chile, and the person taking care of it is Felipe

Rojas. So, supposedly, the guy opened the door, saw Fernanda, the dogs barked, and he let her in. Fernanda clearly entered the warehouse and never came out. Point two, the bicycle supposedly appears on camera. The bicycle goes in the opposite direction after Fernanda appears and then returns. And in Natalia's testimony, Felipe took the bike to sell Fernanda's phone. When the police asked Felipe for the bicycle to inspect it, he supposedly said it had been stolen. Point three, contradictory statements he gave to the police, statements that, until now, no one knew about.

supposedly when he was first interrogated, the police dismissed him as a suspect. He was a good guy, educated, with a job, honest. But supposedly at the very beginning, during interrogation, he said he didn't have the warehouse keys, while his boss was saying he did. He also said he was supposed to meet Fernanda that day, but in the end they didn't. But according to his ex-girlfriend, he did meet her. point four, perhaps the most suspicious of all, at the end of 2018, he left the neighborhood for three months. Three months during which he was practically missing, and when he returned,

he looked completely different, he had gained weight, was more unkempt. According to his loved ones, these weight changes were common in him, but recently he looked more downcast, more worried, more withdrawn. So the change in attitude seems really telling. There are many more points that seem to point to him, but what currently seems to impact people the most is that in May of this year, Paola Korea announced to the media that she had seen new footage of someone going back and forth to the warehouse carrying bags of cement, someone who apparently looked very familiar to her. According to several sources, Paola already knew then that her daughter's fate was tied to her neighbor. But this part of the information is all conjecture,

everyone knew it was only a matter of time before he got caught. But anyway, now it it's your turn. What do you think about the case? Do you believe this guy really killed Fernanda? And if so, do you think he acted alone or with help? The end. A face without a name, the tragic story of Jody Sarin. On Valentine's Day in 2007, a quiet dinner at a fancy restaurant followed by a movie seemed like the perfect way for Arthur and Lois Serran to celebrate their love. They enjoyed a peaceful evening, reminiscing about life and love. Yet, something felt off. Their daughter Jody always checked in, either through a call or a quick message, but that evening, silence. Concerned, they decided to stop by her house after their movie night.

What they found changed their lives forever. Hashtag hashtag hashtag a quiet house and a disturbing silence. When the Sarrans arrived at Jody's home in San Diego, the lights were on, and faint noises came from inside. They rang the doorbell, expecting her cheerful voice to greet them. But no one came to the door. Growing uneasy, they knocked louder and called her name. Still nothing. Arthur pulled out the spare key, slid it into the lock, and turned.

The door barely budged. The chain on the inside was latched. Someone was home, but who? The noises from earlier had stopped, replaced by an eerie silence. Panic searched. Arthur pushed the door with all his might until it gave way. Inside, the house was neat and tidy, nothing seemed out of place. But near the entrance sat a pair of men's shoes.

Jody didn't have a boyfriend, or at least she hadn't mentioned one. Puzzled, the Sarans began searching the house, calling her name as they went. When they reached the bedroom, the door was ajar, and the room was cloaked in darkness. As their eyes adjusted, they saw two figures. Jody lay on the bed, and over her was a man, shirtless. Awkward and embarrassed, Arthur and Lois quickly apologized, assuming they had walked in on an intimate moment. retreated to the kitchen, giving the couple time to compose themselves and come out for a conversation. But the minutes dragged on, and neither Jody nor the man appeared. Growing impatient,

the Saron's returned to the bedroom. The man was gone. Jody remained on the bed, motionless. Hashtag, hashtag a parent's worst nightmare. Arthur approached his daughter, calling her name softly. She didn't respond. As he drew closer, he noticed bruises covering her face and arms. Her skin was cold to the touch. She wasn't breathing. Frantic, he tried to revive her, but it was too late. Jody was gone. In a days, the couple rushed back to the living room, desperate to call for help. But when they glanced at the entryway, the man's shoes had vanished. It was as if he had never been there. The police arrived swiftly, but the lack of clues was disheartening. There were no signs of forced entry, suggesting Jody had willingly let her attacker in. The

Mysterious man had left no fingerprints, no weapon, and no visible trail. All they had was the Sarin's vague description, a man, partially dressed, seen only from behind. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the life of Jody Sarin. To understand the tragedy, one must first understand Jody. Born on November 1, 1967, in Glendale, California, she was one of six children in a loving family. Though Jody faced mild intellectual challenges, she lived a fulfilling and independent life. By the time she was 39, she had her own apartment and a passion for helping others. Jody adored animals, especially her horse, Sam, and her cat, Angel.

Her hobbies included horseback riding, ice skating, crafting, and volunteering at her church in the local animal shelter. She also supported mental health initiatives through the National Alliance on Mental Illness. Her parents were her rock. They often drove her around since she wasn't allowed to get a driver's license. The Sarans were a close-knit family, with her parents. daily phone calls and frequent visits. Valentine's Day was no different. Arthur and Lois visited often, and when Jody didn't check in that evening, their concern was immediate.

Hashtag, hashtag hashtag the investigation begins. The crime scene puzzled investigators. There were no signs of a struggle, theft, or forced entry. The man had seemingly slipped out of the house unnoticed. Jody's body told a grim story, she had been beaten and strangled. The violence suggested a personal motive. A crucial detail emerged about Jody's habits. She insisted that guests remove their shoes upon entering her home, a ritual respected by her friends and family. The presence of the men's shoes near the door suggested the man was someone she knew or trusted. DNA evidence was recovered from Jody's body, but when entered into the police database, there were no matches.

The killer had no criminal record. Investigators questioned everyone in Jody's life, from family. family to friends to neighbors, but no one had a bad word to say about her. The trail quickly went cold. Hashtag hashtag hashtag a decade of mystery. For ten years, Jody's murder remained unsolved. Her parents were left with unanswered questions, haunted by the image of their daughter's lifeless body and the man who had vanished into the night.

Then, in 2017, a breakthrough in forensic technology brought renewed hope. A company called Parabon Nanolabs developed a method to create a facial sketch based on DNA evidence. Using the DNA sample collected from Jody's case, they reconstructed the possible appearance of her killer, including details like eye color, skin tone, and hair type. The sketch was released to the public, accompanied by a $52,000 reward for any information leading to the man's identification. But days turned into weeks, and no leads emerged. Hashtag hashtag a family connection. Finally, a breakthrough. In late 2017, another DNA search yielded a partial match. The suspect's DNA shared familial traits with someone already in the system.

The family tree was meticulously analyzed, narrowing the possibilities. Investigators eliminated women and men who didn't match the age or physical characteristics derived from the DNA sketch. Eventually, they identified a man named David Mabrinto, a distant relative of the partial match. Hashtag, hashtag who was David Mabrinto, David was a transient man with no criminal record. Though he had been questioned years earlier in connection to a robbery near his encampment, he had been cleared and his DNA wasn't entered into any database. However, a sample had been preserved. When David stored DNA was compared to the sample from Jody's case, it was a match.

David Mabrinto was the man who had killed Jody Saren. But there was no victory to be had. In 2011, six years before the breakthrough, David had taken his own life. Hashtag hashtag hashtag justice denied. The Sarans were devastated. They finally had a name, a face, and the truth about who had stolen their daughter's life. But with David gone, they would never know why. Why had he targeted Jody?

How did they know each other? What led him to commit such a heinous act? The unanswered questions left the family with an ache that justice couldn't soothe. In a press statement, Arthur and Lois Saren said, Jody taught us all with her special challenges, perseverance, and love of life. There was joy in her laughter, love. in her heart and faith in her soul. We are eternally grateful to the police department for their tireless efforts in resolving this case. Hashtag hashtag a bittersweet end. Jody's case closed

with a resolution but no closure. The man responsible for her death could never be held accountable, and the motives behind his actions died with him. The Sarans were left to grapple with the bittersweet reality, they finally knew the truth, but it brought no peace. What do you think? Was justice truly served in Jody's case?