Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - The Obsession That Ended in Tragedy The Murder of Jessica Méndez Iglesias in Spain PART2 #66

Episode Date: January 23, 2026

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #truecrime #spanishmurdercase #darkobsession #realhorrorstory #toxiclove The truth behind Jessica Méndez Iglesias’s murder begins to unravel in this second part of the story. As investigators dig deeper, dark secrets come to light — lies, manipulation, and a trail of messages revealing an escalating obsession. Friends and family recount the final days before tragedy struck, and the horrifying moment when the killer’s facade finally shattered. What seemed like love turned into a nightmare that no one saw coming. This is the continuation of a haunting real-life story that exposes how obsession can destroy everything in its path. horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truecrime, realhorrorstory, spanishcrime, darkobsession, murderinvestigation, obsessionstory, tragicending, femicidecase, chillingtruth, realcasefile, psychologicalthriller, murdermystery, crimeuncovered, shockingrevelation

Part 2, The Last Fight for Justice, Jessica's Final Days. When the crash happened, chaos erupted instantly. Drivers stopped, people jumped out of their cars, and someone dialed emergency services right away. Jessica was trapped inside her small vehicle, unconscious, and bleeding heavily. It was clear that this wasn't a minor fender-bender, her car looked like it had been crushed from the driver's side inward. The firefighters had to use hydraulic cutters to pry open the metal just to reach her. When they finally pulled her out, she wasn't responsive. Her pulse was weak, her breathing shallow. The paramedics did everything they could right there on the side of the road before rushing her to Alvaro-Cuncaro Hospital in Vigo.

She was in critical condition, barely holding on. To the bystanders who had witnessed the collision, it seemed at first like, like a terrible accident, just bad luck. But as they looked closer at the scene and at the driver of the other car, something started to feel off. The man behind the wheel of the car that had rammed Jessica was standing nearby, shaken but conscious. He had a few scratches, a bit of blood on his forehead, but nothing major. When people asked if he was okay, he simply said he was fine, just a few bruises. His tone was strangely calm for someone who had just been in such a violent crash. That man, of course, was Jose Carlos Iron Iglesias,

Jessica's former neighbor, the same man who had harassed her for years. The scene becomes a battlefield. As Jose was being examined by paramedics, the first of Jessica's relatives began arriving at the scene. They'd gotten the news through frantic phone calls, the kind that make your blood run cold. They ran toward the twisted wreckage and then spotted him, the man responsible for so many of Jessica's fears. Without hesitation, they confronted him right there, in front of witnesses and rescue crews. You did this on purpose, one of them yelled, trembling with rage. Others cried, some shouting through tears that he had finally gone too far. Jose tried to defend himself, insisting that he hadn't meant to. crash into her that Jessica's car had come out of nowhere and he couldn't avoid her. He swore

it was an accident. But even as he said it, his voice lacked conviction. Members of the Civil Guards Traffic Unit began inspecting the scene, measuring distances, checking the tire marks, or, rather, noticing the absence of them. There were no skid marks on the asphalt, no signs of breaking or swerving. That detail spoke louder than any words. The investigators quickly started to think the same thing the Mendez-Eglacius family already knew deep down, this wasn't a mistake. It was deliberate. The case was immediately transferred to the judicial police unit of Pontaveira for deeper investigation. Fighting for her life By the time Jessica reached the hospital, she was already in a deep coma.

Doctors diagnosed her with a severe traumatic brain injury, a subdural hematoma, an extensive cerebral edema, massive swelling in her brain. Her condition was critical. Machines breathed for her while her family waited helplessly outside the ICU, praying for a miracle. Meanwhile, investigators were busy interviewing witnesses. Jessica's friends, her boyfriend this mile, and even neighbors from both families. It didn't take long before a clear motive emerged, obsession. Jose had been fixated on Jessica since she was a teenager, and her rejection had twisted that obsession into something lethal.

The doctors did everything possible. They operated, they monitored her brain pressure, they kept her stable through the night. But sometimes, even the strongest hearts can't take that person. kind of trauma. Just 24 hours later, on Friday, March 18, 2022, Jessica's heart stopped beating. She was only 29 years old. The arrest. That same day, the Civil Guard arrested Jose Carlos Iron, then 41, on suspicion of intentional homicide. While investigators continued gathering evidence, the early findings were enough to suggest that the crash wasn't accidental, it had been planned. Jose spent that weekend in a cold, grey cell, waiting to be brought before the judge.

He didn't talk much, and when he did, it was only to repeat that it had all been an unfortunate coincidence. Meanwhile, Jessica's family was trying to make sense of the unthinkable. They kept asking themselves the same question over and over, why her? In Barrow, the site of the crash quickly turned into a memorial. Locals brought flowers, candles, and handwritten notes. Someone tied a ribbon to a tree nearby with the words, justice for Jessica. People who had never even met her came by to pay their respects. It wasn't just grief, it was collective anger.

A Farewell Full of Pain. On Sunday, March 20th, the entire region seemed to stand still. People from Pontevethra, Barrow, and Portis gathered alongside Jessica's family and her boyfriend Ismail for her funeral service at the San Martín de Verdesido Church. Outside the church, people whispered about what had happened, still struggling to believe that the cheerful young woman who always offered a helping hand was gone. Everyone had a story about Jessica, the way she smiled, how she'd offered to help anyone, how she never spoke ill of others.

Inside, the church was packed, overflowing with mourners. There was a heavy silence, broken only by sobs. When Jessica's mother, Maria, broke down, crying her daughter's name, that silence shattered into pure heartbreak. The sound of her grief filled the church and lingered long after. Later that afternoon, they buried Jessica in the parish cemetery. The sky was gray. and the air thick with sadness.

Ismail stood near the grave, silent, clutching a photo of her. The man everyone hated. The next morning, Monday, March 21st, Jose was transferred from the detention cell to the Court of Instruction No. 1 in Caldus DeRise. From the moment the police car arrived, chaos broke out. Outside the courthouse, dozens of people, family members, friends, activists, and outraged locals, had gathered, holding banners and shouting at him as he was led inside. Assassin

Coward You destroyed her life. Even as he walked past them, Jose didn't react. He kept his head down, maybe out of shame, or maybe just because he didn't care anymore. Inside, he spent over four and a half hours answering. questions. He insisted that it had all been an accident. He said Jessica's car had suddenly appeared in his path and that he hadn't had time to break. He claimed they barely even saw each other anymore, that their relationship had been limited to polite greetings. But the

police report said otherwise. According to the investigators, there was no evidence of breaking. No skid marks, no evasive maneuver. The speed of his car was so high that the impact pushed Jessica's vehicle more than 15 meters sideways. Experts concluded that the crash was premeditated. The report stated clearly that Jose acted with full awareness that colliding at such speed with the driver's side of another vehicle could cause death. After hearing both sides, the judge ordered provisional detention without bail. Jose was sent to prison.

A community demands answers. In the days that followed Jessica's death, the shock turned into fury. Across Galicia, organizations advocating for women's rights spoke out. They saw in Jessica's story yet another example of a pattern too familiar in Spain, men who can't handle rejection turning violent. Susanna Razillo, a representative of the feminist movement of Pontevra, told the press that this case bore all the signs of gender-based violence. She pointed out that Jose's harassment over the years fit a disturbing pattern seen in many femicides across the country.

She admitted it was often hard to prove harassment without physical evidence, but she emphasized the importance of speaking up before things escalate. Sometimes people think it's not serious, she said. They think if there's no relationship, it can't be violence against women. But that's not true. The danger starts long before the violence. Susanna's words resonated deeply with Jessica's loved ones. They had witnessed years of stalking, threats, and intimidation, long before the crash. Legal barriers

However, the road to justice was complicated. Spanish law defined gender-based violence specifically as abuse committed by someone who was or had been in a romantic relationship with the victim. Since Jessica had never dated Jose, technically, the case didn't fit that category. It was absurd to many, how could the law fail to recognize the years of harassment that led to her death? for Jessica's family and feminist groups, that loophole felt like a second injustice. Still, they refused to give up. Organizations and advocates across Spain began pushing for the legal definition to be expanded,

especially in light of Spain's commitment to the Istanbul Convention, a European treaty aimed at preventing and combating violence against women and domestic violence. They wanted Jessica's case to be the turning point, a reason to be a reason to broaden the concept of gender violence so that obsession and harassment would count, even without a romantic link. Support grows. The movement gained momentum. The city councils of Pontevethra and Borough, along with the office of the Vail Dora du Pobo,

the Galician Ombudsperson, a kind of parliamentary commissioner for human rights, joined the cause. They sent an official report to Spain's national defender of the people, urging that Jessica's death be recognized as an aggravated case of gender violence? Their argument was simple, Jose's actions were not random, they were the final act of years of prolonged harassment. Behind the legal and political efforts, Jessica's family tried to hold themselves together. Her mother spent her days surrounded by neighbors who brought food, flowers, or just company. Ismail, her boyfriend, barely spoke. He spent hours scrolling through photos of them together, remembering how happy she'd been just days before.

The investigation deepens. Meanwhile, the judicial police of the Civil Guard kept digging. They focused on the phone records of both Jessica and Jose, searching for messages, calls, or anything that could show his obsession in the days leading up to the crash. They also reconstructed the timeline of his movements that morning. surveillance cameras from nearby businesses showed his car driving in the same direction as Jessica's only minutes before the crash. He wasn't just passing by, he had followed her. Officers began piecing together the evidence to build a narrative clear enough to transfer the case to a court specializing in gender violence, arguing that his motive was rooted in rejection and male dominance, a twisted sense of entitlement. Witness statements confirmed what many already knew, Jose had spent years watching Jessica,

making her uncomfortable, even terrorizing her at times. The Night of the Vigil That Monday evening, March 21st, the town gathered once again, this time, not in anger, but in sorrow. A candlelight vigil was held in front of the Barrow Town Hall, where hundreds of people came together to honor Jessica's memory. As the night fell, the plaza filled with the soft glow of candles and the smell of flowers. People stood in silence, holding signs that read N. I. Una Moss, not one more. Jessica's picture, framed by white roses, sat in the center of the crowd.

Some cried quietly, others stood with clenched fists, furious that something so predictable had still been allowed to happen. Speeches were given, by neighbors, by feminist organizations, by the mayor himself. They all said the same thing, Jessica's death was not an accident. It was the result of a system that ignored warning signs for too long. Her mother didn't speak that night. She just stood there, surrounded by people who loved her daughter, staring at the flickering candles. Ismail placed one more photo of Jessica at the base of the memorial, whispering something

only he could hear. The bigger picture The case of Jessica Mendez Iglesias became more than just a local tragedy. It became a symbol, a wake-up call about how easily harassment is dismissed until it's too late. Journalists began revisiting old cases of women killed by men they had rejected, pointing out the same patterns, stalking, threats, vandalism, followed by violence. Activists urged lawmakers to recognize that obsession and possessiveness, even without a

romantic link, are still forms of gender violence. The story spread across Galicia and beyond, reaching national headlines. Jessica's name was mentioned in Parliament, in debates about strengthening protection for women against non-partner harassment. She had become a voice for countless others who never got the chance to speak. The man in the cell. While all this unfolded outside, Jose sat in his prison cell, isolated. Some inmates recognized him from the news and wanted nothing to do with him. Others taunted him, calling him a coward.

Report said he barely ate. He spent most of his time pacing or staring at the wall, replaying his version of the story in his head. He told anyone who would listen that he didn't mean to kill her. But deep down, everyone knew what he'd done. The investigators kept building their case, preparing to prove beyond doubt that what happened that mourning wasn't fate, it was murder-driven by obsession. And as the town of Borough continued to mourn, as Jessica's loved ones fought for justice, one thing became painfully clear, sometimes evil hides in plain sight right across the street. Jessica had tried to escape it to build a life filled with love and hope.

But the past she left behind had refused to let her go. Her story, now etched into Galicia's collective memory, was far from over. To be continued.