Sword and Scale Nightmares - Bad Friends

Episode Date: March 25, 2026

On March 12, 2000, in Spearfish, South Dakota, nineteen-year-old Chester Allan Poage agrees to a night that seems harmless… until it isn’t. In a secluded pocket of the Black Hills, it’s hard for a trusting kid like Chester to tell the difference between friends and predators.Get commercial free access to over a decade of Sword and Scale's true crime podcasts at http://swordandscale.com

Chester steps into a house that isn't his. The air inside is stale and warm, stagnant with cigarette smoke. A television buzzes somewhere low and constant. The lighting is dim and yellow, throwing inky shadows across furniture that looks worn in, like it's been slept on for thousands of nights. They've only just arrived. It should feel like a continuation of the... the night, another stop, nothing serious. They're just hanging out and killing time. That's what

Chester thinks, at least, until the chatter amongst the group abruptly stops. That's when one of his friends, Elijah, pulls out a small pistol and points it right at him. Elijah orders him to get on the floor. Chester's body moves before his mind can argue. Confused, he starts to lower himself, palms out, trying to do exactly what he's told. Elijah speaks for the group, calm and blunt, like he's already decided. He tells him, matter-of-factly, we're jacking you of all your stuff. Chester doesn't even get a chance to fully hit the ground before another of the boys kicks him in the face, hard enough that one of his teeth flies from his mouth.

The room lurches. The sound collapses into ringing. and the night drops out from under him. His vision goes black. To sword and scale nightmares. True crime for bedtime. When nightmare begins now. There's something people don't talk about much when it comes to stress. The way it shows up on your face.

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It comes back in fragments. At first, there's nothing but the inside of his own head. A thick ringing that swallows everything else. It rises and falls like an idling engine. Somewhere beneath it there are sounds coming from the real world around him. The television, footsteps, voices. But he can't tell if they're close by or somewhere across the house. He tries to open his eyes and can't.

His lids are heavy, stuck like they've been taped down. His mouth tastes like pennies. He swallows. The motion pulls pain across his face. His mind reaches for something simple. A fact. Chester. He's Chester Allen Pogue.

And he's 19 years old. Then a vision flashes quick and bright. It's a kitchen light, the smell of breakfast, a frying pan. It's his childhood home. He sees his own hands, younger hands, reaching for something. Just as quickly as it arrives, it's gone. His senses are returning. His wrists burn.

He twitches and pain snaps through him so sharply that he makes a sound. It surprises him. He doesn't sound like himself. He tries to pull away from whatever is hurting him, and the pain flares at his ankles. But he's sitting upright, held in place by his. tight cords. The ringing in his head thins enough that the world outside starts to leak in. He can hear a scraping sound, then a chair-like shifting. He tries to remember how he got here,

and his mind offers him a different memory instead. He can see his mother's motorcycle, feel the rush of wind. He remembers stars above the rest area that were so clear they looked close enough to touch. Then the memory buckles, a darker thought pushes through. He thinks of mom, dad, and the day everything changed. People whispered the word suicide like it was contagious. After that, it was just mom and Samantha. Another memory swells.

Florida. They're both in Florida now. He sees a suitcase by the door and his mom, mom telling him to be good, telling him to lock up, that they'll be back soon. He can see the inside of the empty house after the car pulls away, quiet and lonely. His stomach drops as reality tries to assemble itself. They're gone, and he's alone with whoever these people are. The thought isn't fully formed, but it lands like a weight.

His eyes finally open. His vision is shaky. The room is swimming in that sickly yellow light. This isn't his living room. The stale, sour scent of the place hits him in the back of the throat. His face throbs in time with his pulse. He blinks hard, trying to sharpen his view. He can see three figures.

He recognizes them, and his memory comes flooding back. These are the guys he was hanging out with. People he thought were his friends. Elijah, Briley, and Daryl. He looks down. There's a tire iron across his feet. Heavy metal pinning them in place as if tying his ankles and wrists wasn't enough. Chester's eyes begin to well up with hot tears.

All he's ever wanted is friendship and these guys were not being friendly. put it that way. For years, he's been relentlessly bullied for his appearance, his height, his long, skinny limbs, his big glasses, his name, and even his father's suicide.

His mind keeps running over the events of the night leading up to this hostage situation. In a place like Spearfish, a small town in South Dakota, people don't always meet in a memorable way, but Chester,

must have known these guys well enough because that's right. That's where they'd been hanging out. They all met over at Chester's place to play video games. How did everyone end up here? And why was he tied up to a chair? Chester is sore and confused. They were all having such a good time before. Just then it hits him.

He remembers Elijah pulling out a gun and saying, We're jacking you of all your stuff. The thing is, Chester would have willingly handed over anything if so-called friends wanted. There was no need to steal from him, let alone hurt him. All they had to do was ask, he thought. But this isn't about Chester's PlayStation or his car, or the 22-caliber handgun Elijah stole from Chester's mom. Chester doesn't know it yet, but these three don't just want to take all of his stuff.

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That's L-I-Q-U-R-E dot com. And use promo code S-W-O-R-D at checkout. When 19-year-old Chester Pogue regains consciousness, he's no longer in his own home. He's upright, bound tightly at the wrists and ankles with a heavy tire iron across his. feet. Standing over him are the same three guys he's been hanging out with for the last three hours, Elijah Page, Briley Piper, and Darrell Haudley. He keeps replaying the moments he can

remember. The pistol in Elijah's hand, the words he spoke, the kick to the face that dislodged a tooth. And now in the dim light of this unfamiliar place, Chester is trying to understand what comes next. He's trying desperately to convince himself there's still a version of the night that ends with his friends untying him and setting him free. But the longer he sits there, head hanging in pain, the more he realizes this is not a robbery. Things have not improved. In fact, Chester is becoming more terrified by the second. The boys are talking amongst themselves and one of them is now walking towards him with a crusty bottle of suspicious brown liquid. Drink it, he says.

The liquid is chunky and smells wrong. Chester tightens his lips, folding them over his teeth, clamping down hard. He doesn't want to drink whatever that is, but he's tied to this chair and the three of them are much stronger than he is. The liquid is sliding down his chin. down his throat. It's a stale beer with crushed up pills or something in it. He can't tell. Soon he feels a burning sensation, not like hot peppers or liquor, but like chemicals. It sears his throat and he coughs. They don't stop. They keep pouring the liquid in his mouth, forcing him

to swallow so he doesn't inhale the stuff. His eyes flood. His body jerks uselessly against the cords. And these boys are laughing. They're enjoying this. Somewhere above him a casual voice says, give me your ATM pin. It's Elijah. Chester can't speak. His throat is raw, but he needs to give it to them. In a raspy whisper, he lists the numbers. Bad move. Now they have what they want, and they're openly talking about killing him right there, out loud, like he's not even in the room. One of them suggests they slit his throat, but another says, Nah, that would make too much of a mess. Too much blood in the house. Chester sits there listening, burning, shaking, while they brainstorm the best way to murder him. He tries to

breathe through it. He thinks of his mom and sister. He tries to disappear into this memory in his own mind. But there's nowhere to go. He is completely at the mercy of these people he thought were his friends. But it's becoming clear they have no concept of mercy. Suddenly he's being wrenched out of his chair, carried out the door, and shoved into his own car. The drive is a blur of cold air and headlights. And Chester's heart is hammering so hard that it feels like it might rip his ribs open. He's got no idea where they're going or even what direction they're heading in.

He just knows the roads are getting darker. They drive for about seven miles out to a remote, wooded place in the Black Hills, an area known as Higgins Gulch. It's the middle of a brutal winter, and the frigid air cuts Chester's skin as he's shoved out of the car. There's snow everywhere, deep snow. It's the kind that swallowed. screams and hides them. He knows no one can hear him out here. Now they're ripping

off his clothes, snatching his wallet. They leave him with nothing but an undershirt, shoes and socks, and it's about 25 degrees. Chester's skin tightens instantly. Guest bumps spread across him like a rash. His teeth shatter, making his jaw ache even more. And then they make him walk. Each creaking step downhill leads him closer to the sound of running water. It's a creek, small, dark, and half-hidden under the ice and snow, but still moving.

Before they reach at, the boys order Chester to lie down in the snow. He obeys. Obeying is all he has. It's all he knows how to do. Surrounding him, the cackling group of boys starts to kick snow on top of. of Chester, maybe trying to get him to freeze faster, humiliate him, or get a reaction. He tries to push himself up, to crawl away, and whatever adrenaline is coursing through his veins gives him enough strength to stand. Chester's eyes dart around and he makes a run for it.

For just a few moments, his body forgets the cold, the pain, the ringing in his head, and he runs like a trapped animal. He almost makes it, too. His feet thwart. He almost makes it, too. His feet jumping beneath him until he's tackled. Elijah has caught up with him and drags him back towards the creek, screaming. He splashes into the icy water. The shock is immediate, clamping around his body like a fist. It steals the breath from his lungs. His muscles seize.

He's gasping and sucking in water, trying to stand, but the rocks are slippery, and his legs are weak. And numb. Then the beating starts. He feels the impact of hard boots on bare skin. His ribs, his head, his face again and again. Chester cries out with sharp and voluntary sounds that he can't control. Elijah keeps kicking somehow harder each time.

Every time he screams, it makes them kick more, like the sound of his suffering is the whole point. Time stretches. You can't tell how much has passed, only that the beating has not stopped. One of the boys complains his foot hurts from kicking so long. Chester's blood mixes with freezing creek water. These boys have kicked him so brutally that both ears have been nearly ripped from his head. Elijah, Briley, and Daryl are surprised that Chester's survived this long.

They've had their fun, and now the group has decided it's time to finish. It's time to close up shop here and mosey on down the road. The boys start arguing about who's going to stab him. Elijah, frustrated, snatches the knife. Fuck it, he says, and he plunges it into Chester's throat. Chester's body convulses. The world spins, and he can taste the metal. he's still alive.

Then Briley stabs him in the head. He's laughing as he doesn't, making jokes about what Chester must be feeling, how much it must hurt. You think of anything even as remotely evil as that. It really is like we're living amongst demons. Chester is bleeding badly now. His entire body is chattering,

as the blood loss and icy water, his temperature to plummet. He begs them to let him get back into the warm car. His car. He says something that isn't something anyone should ever have to say. He would rather bleed to death in the warmth than freeze to death in the cold. Briley agrees.

But first, he's got to wash the blood off of himself. Chester does it, barely hanging on to life. He rinses himself in the freezing creek water his fingers numb, trying to scrub away the evidence of his own impending death. Then he crawls out of the creek and uphill towards the car. Every inch feels impossible. It's just when he's about to give up that Elijah tells him the truth. They were lying. They were never going to let him back into his car.

Elijah kicks him in the face again and they drag Chester back. back down to the creek and back into the water. Elijah and Daryl pick up a few heavy rocks and stand over Chester as he stares up into the blurry sky. Then they drop them over and over. They drop these small boulders onto Chester's head. Finally, when it's all done, when Chester is silent, they get into his vehicle and drive away.

The creek keeps running through Higgins' gulch like nothing ever happened, carrying the last warmth out of Chester's limp body. The night, finally, let's go of Chester Pogue, and it's already early morning. Hours after it began, after the cold, the cold, the crue. creek, the rocks. He's left for dead out in Higgins' Gulch. And as if these boys couldn't get more evil, they decide to finish out the robbery. Now that Chester's dead, they can take as much stuff as they want. They talk about how they'll divide everything, like it's simply a job to complete. Then they return to his house and take the rest of the valuables. They move through the place

like it's their own personal vault. Like they didn't just drag the person who lives there into the woods and torture him to death. They take what they can, and they leave town in Chester's car. They drive to Hannibal, Missouri, to see Briley Piper's sister. They hope they can stay with her, but she refuses. So they turn around, come back and head to Rapid City. There they'll use Chester's ATM card to get cash. They pawns some of his property and eventually they split up.

This is not the behavior of kids who just made a mistake, but the actions of arrogant criminals who think they got away with it. Meanwhile, back in Spearfish, the world keeps moving forward until Chester's mom and sister arrive home from Florida. Chester isn't home. The house is in disarray. It's clear something is very wrong. He's just not the kind of kid who goes out at all, let alone without notice. He prefers to spend time with his family doing things like rollerblading and fishing.

His mother's eyes moved to the Afghan on the back of the couch. Chester had made that himself after learning to crochet a few years ago. Tears well up in her eyes as she thinks of her son and the immense pride she feels. Any parent would be proud of Chester. So why would he leave without telling anyone? He's not answering his phone. He always answers his phone. Something terrible must have happened.

Soon the Black Hills will reveal the truth. On April 22nd of the year 2000, about a month after his murder, Chester's remains are discovered by a woman walking near Higgins Gulch. Now there's no missing person, just a murder and a crime scene. Once his body is found, the pressure mounts on law enforcement. The case is like a noose tightening around them. Nothing like this ever happens here. On April 25th, the friend of Daryl Haudley tells law enforcement that Daryl is involved.

Apparently, he can't shut up about what he's done. In fact, he's proud of it. So, like a scene from a movie, investigators outfit this friend with a recording device. and send him to talk to Daryl. During that recorded conversation, Darrell tells his friend all about the murder, like an idiot. He's immediately arrested and brought in for questioning.

He's advised of his Miranda rights, but he waives them like an idiot. He just wants investigators to know his friends Elijah and Brier were the ones who killed Chester, not him. He even agrees to go back to Higgins' Gulch with them, to better describe exactly what happened out there. All the while, law enforcement is on the hunt. Arrest warrants in hand for Elijah Page and Riley Piper.

Once they're in custody, they tell the same story Daryl told. And in detail. They're not ashamed of what they've done. From there, the system does what it always does. The small town horror of the situation is translated into courtroom jargon. But what these three did to Chester is aggressive. It's not a normal murder.

All of their cases will be treated as death penalty cases. So, 21-year-old Darrell Holdley goes to trial in 2001 and is convicted of first-degree murder, kidnapping, robbery, burglary, and grand theft. A jury sentences him to life in prison without the possibility of parole. narrowly sparing him a death sentence. 19-year-old Elijah Page and 20-year-old Briley Piper were not so lucky. The jury decides that they deserve death. In South Dakota, this isn't routine.

Before this, the state had gone decades without carrying out an execution until this senseless brutality drags the practice out of obscurity. There's always some idiot ruining it, For everyone else, isn't there? On July 11, 2007, Elijah Page is executed by lethal injection. It's the state's first one since 1947. Today, Briley Piper still sits on death row. His appeals and efforts to overturn his conviction have failed.

Chester's mistake wasn't carelessness. It was wanting to belong. Yeah, I know. It sounds really, really sad. And it is. He let the wrong people into his orbit. He gave them a normal night to video games, laughter, something that felt like friendship.

What they did in return was that they robbed him, and then they erased him. And when they were finished, they returned to his house to take whatever else they could carry. Literal fucking demons that we live amongst. it really is the state of the world today. Most people have valuables in their homes, things that catch a thief's eye through a window.

What made Chester the perfect victim, though, was what he offered instead. Openness, trust, and a willingness to hand out friendship to people who deserved it the least. If you enjoyed the show, please consider joining plus at swordendscale.com slash plus. But if you can't, consider leaving us a positive review on your preferred listening platform.

Sweet dreams and good night.