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situations. Welcome

2:24

to the Serial Killer Podcast,

2:26

the podcast dedicated to serial

2:29

killers. Who they were,

2:31

what they did and how. Episode

2:33

225. I

2:36

am your humble host, Thomas Rosland

2:39

Weiburgs. And

2:41

tonight we continue the tale of

2:43

the Killer Cop, Gerard John Shafer.

2:47

A point of clarification. The

2:50

title of this series is

2:53

John Gerard Shafer. When

2:55

researching him, many sources list

2:58

his name in that order. But

3:00

upon closer study, the correct order

3:02

is Gerard John Shafer,

3:05

which to me sounds more

3:07

cumbersome to say. It's

3:09

also not easy to ascertain how he

3:11

preferred to be called. Some

3:14

sources list John, others

3:16

Gerard and others that

3:19

gain simply GJ. To

3:21

avoid confusion, I have

3:23

changed the title to reflect the correct

3:26

spelling. Last episode

3:28

we explored Shafer's childhood up until

3:30

young adulthood. His veneer

3:33

of respectability was beginning to

3:35

crack, showing itself

3:37

first with his morbid

3:39

fascination with defecation and

3:42

capital punishment. Tonight

3:44

we explore further how the once

3:46

strapping young jock turned into a

3:49

flabby killer cop. my

4:00

loyal Patreones. They are...

4:03

Lisbeth, Russell, Lisa, Kathy,

4:05

James, Cody, Kylie, Robert,

4:07

Val, Marilyn, Craig,

4:09

Emily, The Duggaltons, Jonathan,

4:12

Jennifer, Lunavar, Roy, Cheryl,

4:15

Richard, Brad, Laurie, Manuel,

4:17

Hayley, James, Jeff, Eulen,

4:20

Meg, Crystal, and Ricky. You

4:23

are truly the backbone of

4:25

the Serial Killer Podcast. And

4:28

without you, there would be no

4:30

show. Thank you. I

4:34

am forever grateful for my elite

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TSK Producers Club, and I want

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to show you that your patronage

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is not given in vain. All

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TSK episodes will be available

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100% ad-free

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to my TSK Producers Club on patreon.com slash

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the Serial Killer Podcast. No

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generic ads, no ad reads, no

5:00

jingles. I promise. And of course,

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if you wish to donate $15 a month, that's

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only $7.50 per episode, you

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ranks of the TSK Producers Club, too.

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So don't miss out, and join now.

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www.tskproductions.com Standelion

5:42

Standaleion Wilton

5:55

Manor PD took a gamble,

5:57

Gerard Schaefer Jr. One

6:00

year after a cursory application process,

6:03

the ex-security guard found himself a

6:05

rookie cop. It

6:08

wasn't like Schaeffer oozed qualifications,

6:11

but recruits were hard to come by,

6:13

and the department could not afford to

6:16

be picky. September

6:18

1971 saw him

6:20

shuffled into Broward County's police

6:22

academy, a chance

6:25

for a fresh start.

6:27

Schaeffer, ever the charmer,

6:30

seized the opportunity. The

6:33

badge gleamed, a symbol

6:35

of a new life. It

6:37

was enough to snag Teresa Dean,

6:39

a cashier at Econoway.

6:43

She couldn't help but be drawn

6:45

to the imposing figure in his

6:47

uniform, a beacon

6:50

of stability amidst the

6:52

counterculture storm. Six

6:54

foot one, 205 pounds,

6:57

Schaeffer couldn't blend into the background.

7:00

Teresa, petite and mousy,

7:03

found herself dwarfed by his presence.

7:06

Yet a spark ignited, his

7:08

ruggedness, her gentleness,

7:11

an unlikely pairing, perhaps, but

7:13

opposites attract. Schaeffer

7:17

wasn't a shining star. Average

7:20

build, average looks, average

7:23

ambition at best. But

7:25

compared to the shaggy haired,

7:27

reefer-smoking hippies of era, he

7:30

was a fortress. To

7:33

Teresa, he was security

7:35

personified. A real man

7:38

who knew what he wanted. Landing

7:40

the police gig solidified his

7:43

image. He popped the question

7:45

and a starry-eyed Teresa said yes.

7:49

September 1971. The wedding bells chimed.

7:54

Like all newlyweds, they waltz

7:57

in a blissful haze. A

7:59

few were painted in sunshine.

8:02

Police academy kept Schaefer busy,

8:04

leaving little time for Teresa.

8:07

But stolen weekends were spent

8:09

chasing idyllic sunsets in South

8:11

Florida. Sanibel and

8:14

Captiva beckoned, with pelicans

8:16

diving for dinner and faint strains

8:18

of music wafting from the bubble

8:21

room. White sand

8:23

cooled beneath their bare feet,

8:26

a fleeting moment before the

8:28

harsh reality of work-school

8:31

and the secrets Gerard John

8:34

Schaefer Jr. so desperately tried

8:37

to bury. Teresa

8:40

regularly starched, pressed, and

8:42

ironed her husband's workloads.

8:46

Her hands, sure and practiced,

8:48

sculpted the uniform into a

8:50

carapace of respectability. The

8:53

city shield, a blind eye sewn

8:55

tight, her wife's work this,

8:58

a silent prayer pressed into every

9:00

crease. Then

9:03

the badge, cold metal in

9:05

her palm, the weight of its

9:08

expectation heavy, polished

9:10

to a cruel gleam, a promise

9:13

etched in silver, a shield, they

9:15

thought, a symbol writ

9:17

large, but Teresa, in

9:19

her unknowing, held a

9:22

darker truth. This

9:25

was no mere shield. It was

9:27

a lure, a glint in

9:29

the dark, a promise of safety that snared

9:31

the unwary. A gun

9:34

might keep its distance, a cold threat

9:36

in the open, but the badge shot.

9:38

The badge was a wolf

9:40

in sheep's clothing. It

9:42

whispered thrust, a shield held

9:44

by a shepherd, and men,

9:47

like sheep, were easily led. This

9:51

knowledge, though, laid dormant in Teresa's

9:53

heart, a seed yet to

9:56

sprout. In her eyes, the

9:58

badge remained a borrowed glory. a

10:00

reflection of the good man she believed her

10:02

husband to be. But

10:05

a truth, like a rust stain,

10:08

would creep in, and the

10:10

polished surface would reveal the monstrated.

10:14

The sun, a greasy smear on the

10:16

horizon, bled heat into the

10:18

Florida air. Labor day

10:21

hangover clung thick to Fort Lauderdale,

10:23

a sickly sweet scent of suntan

10:25

lotion and regret. Thorests,

10:29

like migrating birds, were on the

10:31

move again, drawn by the

10:33

siren song of cheap thrills and

10:35

lukewarm water. Shopkeepers,

10:38

blary-eyed from a summer of

10:40

sluggish business, stared, dusting

10:43

off their wares for the coming onslaught.

10:46

Kids, shorn of summer freedom,

10:48

were back in the sterile cages

10:50

of schools. Traffic, a

10:52

sluggish beast, began to stir.

10:55

Its metallic roar, a counterpoint

10:58

to the ceaseless murmur of the ocean

11:00

polishing the city's golden coast. Life,

11:05

on the surface, remained stubbornly normal.

11:08

No panic, that frantic

11:10

dance of fear that gripped cities in

11:12

the throes of a crisis choked the

11:14

air. No crisis, they

11:17

thought. No son of Sam,

11:19

leaving a trail of bodies in his

11:21

wake. No whispers of

11:23

a stranger tightening his grip on a

11:25

city's throat. This

11:28

was the problem. Papers

11:31

remained free of the lurid tales,

11:33

the grotesque details that usually

11:35

heralded the arrival of a

11:37

monster. No flickering

11:40

TV screens, no twenty-four hour

11:42

news cycle addicted to the

11:44

macabre. The internet,

11:46

a double-edged sword yet to be

11:48

forged, kept information locked

11:51

in tight compartments. Investigations,

11:54

if any, were conducted

11:56

in hushed tones, but

11:58

she felt pleased with a furrowed brow. A

12:00

far cry from the media darling of

12:03

future years. No city

12:05

officials wowing to bring a faceless

12:07

killer to justice. No

12:09

nightly pronouncements assuring a

12:11

terrified populace. There

12:13

were no warnings. Only

12:15

a growing list of the missing.

12:20

From the late sixties, a slow,

12:22

steady drip that turned into a

12:24

torrent by 1972. Men

12:28

a smattering, but mostly women.

12:31

Young, barely out of their

12:33

teens. Some mere children,

12:36

vanished without a trace. Not

12:39

entirely ignored, mind you. The

12:42

Fort Lauderdale PD, along

12:44

with their neighbors in the patchwork kilts

12:46

of towns and counties, conducted

12:48

searches. Eyes scanning

12:50

their undergrowth for any sign, any clue.

12:53

The sheriff's department and local police

12:56

forces took their turns chasing ghosts.

12:59

But as Schaefer with his practiced

13:01

cynicism would mutter under his

13:03

breath, nobody, no crime.

13:08

And the rain lay the heart of

13:11

the darkness. Many were

13:13

already dead. Their absences

13:15

a chilling premonition of the horror

13:17

to come. Many

13:20

more remained lost. Their secrets

13:22

buried with them. A

13:24

testament to a crime so bizarre,

13:27

so depraved, it would

13:29

etch itself into the annals

13:31

of American infamy. Missing

13:34

persons, they weren't headline news.

13:37

Not unless they either came from money

13:39

or had a famous name. For

13:42

the most part, they remained a

13:44

footnote in the local rag, tucked

13:46

away between furniture sales and

13:49

discount tyrants. Imagine,

13:54

if you will, their listener,

13:58

the fluorescent lights. of

14:00

the Adult Education Center on

14:02

South Federal Highway as

14:05

it cast a sterile glow on

14:07

the mismatched assembly. Some,

14:10

like Susan Place, clutched the

14:12

dream of a diploma, a

14:14

second chance. Others,

14:17

hollow-eyed and restless, sought

14:19

the phantom promise of upward

14:21

mobility. Then there were

14:24

those like Gerard John Shafer, who

14:26

drifted through the periphery, drawn

14:28

not by knowledge, but

14:31

by a hunger far more primal.

14:35

The initial connection was as mundane

14:38

as it was chilling, a

14:40

stolen glance across the crowded classroom,

14:43

a flicker of recognition in eyes

14:46

that held a chilling emptiness. Susan,

14:49

with her thirulian gaze and a

14:52

halo of blonde hair, was

14:54

an anomaly in this world of shadows.

14:57

Her slight frame, marred by the legacy

14:59

of a difficult birth, held

15:01

a fragility that resonated with

15:03

Shafer's darkness. For

15:07

Susan, it was a chance

15:09

encounter, a flicker of human connection

15:12

in a lonely existence. For

15:15

Shafer, it was the scent

15:17

of prey, a

15:19

vulnerability he could exploit. There

15:22

was no ground seduction, no

15:25

elaborate manipulation, just

15:27

a practiced ease of a predator

15:29

who knew exactly how to disarm

15:31

his target. Susan's

15:34

past, a tapestry woven

15:37

with loneliness and veiled

15:39

disability, offered a vulnerability

15:41

Shafer could exploit with practiced ease.

15:44

Her friends, a small, loyal

15:46

circle, held no barriers against a

15:48

wolf in sheep's clothing. The

15:51

darkness that resided in Shafer

15:54

was a master of disguise,

15:56

a chilling absence where empathy

15:58

should reside. This

16:01

was not Shaver's first descent into

16:04

the abyss. He carried

16:06

within him the weight of past sins,

16:09

a chilling calculus that measured

16:11

opportunity against risk. Yet

16:15

in Susan's vulnerability he saw

16:17

a terrifying absence of risk,

16:20

a perfect victim for the

16:22

depravity that simmered beneath the

16:25

surface. The

16:28

details of their initial interactions

16:31

remained shrouded in the fog of memory,

16:34

perhaps a shared cigarette break, a

16:36

feigned interest in her studies. Whatever

16:39

the catalyst, Shaver had woven

16:41

his web, and for Susan's

16:43

place, the casual meeting

16:46

at the Adult Education Center

16:48

was the first chilling step

16:50

towards a monstrous fate.

16:55

Georgia Jessup was

16:58

extremely empathetic and caring,

17:00

her spirit a porter's vessel

17:03

that absorbed the world's woes.

17:06

Her mother, a woman soon to

17:08

be draped in the suffocating cloak of

17:10

grief, would later describe her

17:12

to reporters as a girl who saw

17:14

the world as an oyster and a

17:16

rotten one at that. The

17:19

Vietnam conflict, a festering wound

17:21

on the national psyche, gnawed

17:24

at her. In

17:26

a way, Georgia mirrored the

17:28

era's counterculture spirit, a

17:30

nascent flower child in ill-fitting

17:32

floral blouses and jeans

17:35

haphazardly adorned with leather

17:37

and cloth patches. Like

17:41

many who drifted the sun-drenched

17:43

Fort Lauderdale strip, Georgia adopted

17:45

a moniker, crystal.

17:49

The name, a street term for

17:51

narcotics, was a cruel

17:53

irony, considering her aversion to hard

17:56

drugs, while marijuana smoke

17:58

lingered on the breeze. Georgia's

18:01

indulgence was more a product of

18:03

peer pressure than any personal vice.

18:06

It was her effervescence, the

18:09

sparkle in her eyes, that was

18:11

the true origin of the nickname.

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but with a woman's physique that turned

20:02

heads at school, Georgia wasn't

20:05

lacking in male admirers. Yet

20:08

she possessed a keen awareness

20:10

of propriety, keeping them

20:12

at safe distance while basking in

20:14

their attention. Her thick

20:17

brown hair, freaked with

20:19

auburn highlights, would bounce in

20:21

rhythm with her boundless energy

20:24

as she charged out the door,

20:26

eager to devour the day. Her

20:29

mother, blinded by love, saw

20:31

a rose in bloom. Georgia,

20:35

even as a child, possessed an

20:37

openness, a naive thrust in the

20:39

inherent goodness of others, a

20:42

characteristic that would ultimately prove

20:44

to be her undoing. In

20:49

the sterile, fluorescent purgatory of

20:51

the Adult Education Center, Georgia

20:54

Jessup sat, a

20:56

B-minus enigma amidst a cast

20:58

of GED hopefuls. School,

21:01

a regimented world of detentions

21:03

and pep rallies, had

21:05

failed to hold her interest. Her

21:08

father, George, blamed

21:10

their constant relocations for

21:12

this lack of school

21:15

success. The

21:17

Jessup divorce, though amicable on

21:19

the surface, had left a

21:21

fissure in the foundation of

21:23

Georgia's life. George

21:26

and Shirley, her mother, maintained

21:28

a facade of civility, dropping

21:30

by each other's apartments for

21:33

casserole dinners and strained conversations.

21:36

Georgia, for all her teenage

21:38

bravado, craved a stability the

21:40

Place family, their next-door

21:43

neighbors, seemed to possess. But

21:47

Georgia, a wisp of rebellion

21:49

in a too-short skirt, bristled

21:51

at any semblance of control.

21:55

It was that pernicious teenage affliction,

21:57

bloomed particularly in the middle of

21:59

Georgia, particularly vibrant in

22:02

the freewheeling seventies. Dreams

22:04

of a free spirit warred

22:06

with the realities of a life

22:09

on half allowance. Reprimands

22:11

like stale bread were a

22:13

necessary evil. Kitchhiking,

22:16

a spectre that haunted both George

22:18

and Shirley, was a siren

22:21

song Georgia could not resist. With

22:24

both parents tethered to demanding

22:27

jobs, parental control existed in

22:29

stolen moments, a flickering

22:31

neon sign in the ever-present twilight

22:33

of their fractured family. George's

22:38

teenage rebellion escalated from late

22:40

nights to disappearing acts. And

22:43

like some parents who resorted to

22:45

the blunt instrument of corporal punishment,

22:47

George and Shirley Jessop opted for

22:49

a more modern approach, restriction.

22:53

Grounding Georgia, they believed, would be

22:55

a more effective deterrent than

22:57

a belt buckle. But

22:59

the strategy backfired. Georgia,

23:01

fueled by a simmering

23:04

resentment, became a ghost in her

23:06

own home. Vanishing for

23:08

days at a time, each

23:10

disappearance left her mother a nervous

23:12

wreck, only to be

23:14

soothed by a collect call from an

23:17

unknown location. The

23:20

Jessops prided themselves on

23:22

open communication, but a

23:24

dark secret festered beneath the surface.

23:28

Georgia had fallen under the

23:30

sway of a smooth-talking predator

23:32

named Jerry Sheppard.

23:36

Sheppard, a 26-year-old

23:38

imposter whose real

23:40

name was Gerard

23:43

John Schaeffer, was

23:45

a master manipulator. He

23:48

met Georgia and her friend Susan

23:50

Place at the

23:52

Adult Education Center, preying on

23:54

their vulnerabilities. Sheppard

23:58

spun a web of a letter. He

24:02

claimed to be a worldly

24:04

adventurer from Colorado, a

24:07

student at the University of Colorado when

24:09

not traversing the wilderness. Tall,

24:12

well-traveled, and seemingly cultured,

24:14

he was everything the girls

24:16

craved, a stark contrast

24:18

to the immature boys they

24:21

encountered and the limitations

24:23

of their own lives. Shepherd,

24:27

a chameleon by nature, never lingered

24:30

long. He dangled

24:32

a tempting escape route, a trip

24:34

to Mexico, a chance to shed

24:36

their mundane realities. Sujan,

24:39

burdened by societal prejudice,

24:42

yearned for a break, but

24:44

worried about hurting her parents. Georgia,

24:48

already grounded for a

24:50

previous runaway stint, hesitated.

24:54

Sujan, ever the calculated predator,

24:57

even visited the Jessup home. Posing

25:00

as someone searching for a crystal,

25:03

he quickly corrected himself to

25:05

Georgia upon seeing Georgia's suspicion.

25:08

Sheerlin, present but unable to get

25:10

a clear look, noted his imposing

25:13

stature. The

25:16

girls, initially hesitant, found themselves

25:18

drawn to the allure of

25:20

the unknown. Sujan

25:22

was not forceful, but his calm,

25:25

persuasive voice and tales

25:27

of exotic adventures chipped away

25:29

at their assistance. His

25:32

worldly experience, his apparent

25:34

open-mindedness, these were qualities

25:37

they desperately craved. He

25:40

offered the illusion of someone to

25:42

admire, someone who had seen

25:44

it all. Sujan

25:47

remained unconvinced, but

25:49

Georgia's defiance escalated.

25:52

The seeds of their tragic fate

25:54

were being sown, disguised by

25:57

the charm of a cunning conman.

26:01

27 September 1972 A

26:06

Date Etched in Blood on the

26:08

Florida Calendar Georgia

26:11

Jessup, a wisp of a girl

26:13

with dreams far exceeding her sixteen

26:15

years, vanished from her

26:18

home. No struggle. No

26:21

screams. Just a

26:23

blue suitcase packed with aspirations, her

26:26

own clothes, a few pilfered treasured

26:28

from her mother's closet, and

26:30

a younger sister's forgotten dress, a

26:33

silent plea for a piece of childhood

26:36

amidst the coming storm. Her

26:40

departure was a macabre masquerade.

26:43

Jeans adorned with cartoon

26:45

patches, an owl, the

26:47

roadrunner, a desperate

26:49

attempt at youthful nonchalance. But

26:52

the truth clung to her like the

26:54

borrowed blue and white striped blouse, a

26:57

garment several sizes too large for her

27:00

frame, the spiked heels, a

27:02

jarring counterpoint to the childish patches,

27:05

a pathetic attempt to lengthen her shadow,

27:08

to appear older, more desirable

27:10

to the man who awaited

27:12

her. The

27:15

manipulator, shepherd, his

27:18

motives as dark as the Florida

27:20

swampland, needed no brute force.

27:23

Georgia, a moth to a

27:26

flickering flame, was easy

27:28

prey. Her yearning

27:30

for freedom, untainted by judgment,

27:33

a siren song he readily

27:35

played. Vulnerable too

27:37

was Susan Place, burdened

27:39

by a world that offered little

27:42

solace the promise of escape, however

27:45

fleeting, was a balm

27:47

for her wounded spirit. This

27:50

time, no desperate midnight

27:52

flights, no tearful apologies.

27:55

Susan, nearing the precipice

27:57

of adulthood, planned a different

28:00

kind of departure. A

28:02

respectful goodbye, a whisper

28:04

of a journey west, a celebration

28:06

of independence on her approaching eighteenth

28:08

birthday, a birthday

28:11

she would never see. In

28:15

the sterile efficiency of

28:17

a motel-room, Gerard John

28:19

Shafer, alias Jerry

28:22

Shepherd, performed a

28:24

ritual more akin to a serial killer

28:26

preparing for the hunt than a

28:28

man setting out on a date. Dressed

28:31

with a predatory preening, he

28:33

flitted between the mirror and his

28:35

closet door, a silent

28:37

scream trapped within him, the

28:40

ghost of his uniform, a symbol

28:42

of the authority he so craved hung

28:45

heavy in the air. A

28:47

bitter pang of longing twisted his gut. He

28:50

was a man adrift, the power

28:52

he craved stripped bare. And

28:56

a dark satisfaction curdled within him.

28:59

The uniform wasn't the man,

29:01

irrationalized, pulling on a

29:03

pair of straining tan slacks and a

29:06

garish plaid shirt. His

29:08

reflection leered back, a

29:10

fading echo of authority masked by

29:12

a cheap fishing hat. No,

29:15

the uniform was a crutch.

29:18

He, Gerard slash Jerry,

29:21

was the law, a

29:23

self-appointed arbiter of

29:25

a twisted morality, society

29:27

a festering wound

29:30

needed cleansing. He,

29:32

the scalpel, would excise

29:34

the wicked, especially those

29:36

immoral women. Tonight's

29:40

mission, around the vu with

29:42

two vulnerable girls, was a

29:44

twisted act of mercy, a brutal

29:47

education in the harsh realities of

29:49

his brand of law and order.

29:52

The miles stretched before him,

29:54

a desolate canvas upon which he

29:57

would paint his warped sense of

29:59

justice. At

30:01

twenty-six his face, though clean-shaven,

30:04

was etched with a darkness that

30:06

belied his casual demeanor. His

30:09

eyes, like murky pools,

30:11

flickered with a predatory

30:13

glint, reflecting the warped

30:15

colors of his twisted

30:17

ideology. With

30:20

practiced ease he stowed

30:22

his instruments of justice in the

30:25

trunk of his beat-up datsun, a

30:28

final kiss to his unsuspecting wife,

30:31

a chilling echo of normalcy before

30:33

the storm. These

30:35

girls, he would show them the

30:38

error of their ways. They

30:40

would learn his brand

30:42

of obedience, his twisted

30:44

definition of morality. They

30:47

would learn even if it

30:49

meant their demise. The

30:53

Florida sun, a merciless

30:56

tyrant, beat down on Henderson

30:58

Holly. Sweat

31:00

beaded on his brow, mirroring

31:03

the condensation clinging to his

31:05

cold beer can. He

31:08

wasn't collecting aluminum for the

31:10

ecological brownie points. It

31:12

was recession survival,

31:15

each flattened can a

31:18

chinking promise of a few

31:20

meager dollars. The

31:23

air, thick with the decaying

31:25

tang of the sea, held

31:28

a different kind of weight today. It

31:30

pressed down on Holly's chest, a

31:33

premonition, clawing at the edges

31:35

of his consciousness. He waddled

31:37

deeper into the undergrowth, his

31:40

weathered face obscured by the

31:42

dappled sunlight flickering through the

31:44

leaves. The

31:47

sandy earth, a grotesque marriage of

31:49

sea spray and crushed

31:51

fossils, yielded little in

31:53

the way of his aluminum bounty.

31:56

Frustration gnawed at him, a

31:58

bitter counterpoint to the air. the oppressive heat. As

32:01

he strayed further from the dirt road, a flash

32:04

of blue and white caught his eye. A

32:07

bush-bear can, he thought, for

32:09

a leaf washing over him momentarily. But

32:12

this can wouldn't be added

32:14

to his meager collection. It

32:18

was clothing, discarded,

32:21

carelessly thrown about like the

32:23

remnants of some macabre picnic.

32:26

A intrigue-peaked suspicion. A

32:29

black high heel. A soiled

32:32

white panty. A

32:34

pink blouse. The

32:36

castaways of an unsettling narrative.

32:39

These weren't the careless discards of

32:42

teenagers. A chilling

32:44

sense of wrongness warmed

32:46

this way into Holly's gut. The

32:50

clothes were stained, not

32:52

with spilled beer, but

32:54

with something far more sinister. Brown

32:58

flies buzzed around the damp

33:00

outline where the garments had pressed

33:02

into the air. A

33:05

gruesome testament to what had transpired

33:07

here. A gaping hole

33:09

in the ground, freshly disturbed,

33:11

spoke of a crude burial,

33:13

perhaps interrupted. A

33:16

stench, accurate and clawing,

33:19

in fact. Holly scoffed, attributing

33:22

it to the nearby nuclear

33:24

plant, a convenient scapegoat for

33:26

the creeping dreads that coiled

33:28

in his stomach. He

33:32

swatted away a swarm of mosquitoes

33:34

and flies, his gaze drawn

33:36

to the base of an arled

33:38

tree. Something was

33:41

off, an unnatural

33:43

arrangement of branches. As

33:46

he approached, a primal fear

33:48

prickled his skin. The

33:50

sight that greeted him was

33:53

a monstrous tableau, enough

33:56

to curdle his blood and turn his

33:58

stomach sour. A

34:01

human torso bent forward

34:04

and twisted back around, as

34:07

if the spine had been smashed

34:09

or severed, was bound to

34:11

the tree trunk, the head a

34:14

terrifying absence. Fuelled

34:17

the growing horror, scars

34:19

marred the tree trunk near

34:22

the clawing hands, a

34:24

silent testament to a desperate struggle

34:26

for freedom. One

34:29

arm was missing, the

34:31

remaining hand still bound with a

34:33

cruel reminder, a knotted rope. Holly

34:38

stumbled back, nausea rising in his

34:40

throat. He tried to call out

34:42

to his son, but his voice was

34:44

a strangled gasp trapped in his

34:47

chest. His eyes

34:49

darted around, searching for escape, for

34:51

anything but this macabre scene. A

34:55

glint of metal caught his eye, in

34:58

the shallow grave a hand protruded, clutching

35:00

a piece of clothing. Panic

35:03

surged through him. He was

35:05

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35:07

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his gaze swept across, declaring

36:52

a horrifying realization dawned, there

36:55

were two of them. Two

36:57

bodies, both headless, their spines

36:59

severed in a grotesque parody

37:02

of anatomy. One

37:04

clad in blue jeans bore

37:06

a chilling familiarity, an

37:08

emblem patch, weathered but

37:11

recognizable, an owl and

37:13

the cartoon blur of the roadrunner.

37:17

A scream, raw and primal

37:19

erupted from Holy's throat. He

37:22

had stumbled upon the hunter's

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ground and the trophies

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were beyond human comprehension.

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And with that, we come

37:34

to the end of part

37:36

four, covering the saga

37:38

of the killer cop Shafer. Next

37:42

episode will continue his saga. So as

37:44

they say in the land of radio,

37:46

stay tuned.