Episode 76: Psycho Killer
Written By Karl White
A killer was on the loose, whispered in warnings. But the word “killer” felt too small for what moved after sundown. No one could agree on what he was, as his methods changed constantly. He was a shadow that moved along with the night, slow and deliberate, as if darkness was his will rather than what concealed him. Streets emptied early. Doors stayed locked. Lights burned longer. And even the bravest steps quickened once the sun disappeared...Because everyone knew the same truth, the night was no longer empty. And whatever walked within its boundaries needed not darkness to hide, only the patience to let you wander out alone.
A killer stalking the night in rural Kansas - © 2026 Headless Horseman Productions, LLC
By the spring of 1963, with so many dead and missing, everyone in Central Kansas was on edge. With no suspects to name, suspicion instead drifted. Neighbors lingered a moment longer at fences, measuring familiar faces as if seeing them for the first time. Ordinary gestures took on new meaning. A glance held too long, a door closed too quickly, and trust thinned to the point of breaking. In the absence of certainty, everyone became watchful, not because they believed the danger lived next door, but because they could no longer be sure that it didn’t.
And there were details people couldn’t shake. Wild, violent murder scenes. Body parts recovered with bite marks and claw wounds. Distinctive prints in the ground, the shape of a wolf’s, but the size of a man’s. There were even eyewitnesses, claiming to have seen a large hairy figure fleeing crime scenes. Deep guttural howls were heard in the small hours. Some skirted the edges with adequate explanations. While others reasoned enough to want to say the word “werewolf”...but no one uttered it out loud.
Then a suspect revealed himself. Thomas Crowley attempted to kidnap a woman from a parking lot, and was thwarted by an off-duty police officer. There was a collective sigh of relief, it was just a man. But that comfort didn’t last long. After his arrest, the Crowley farm was searched, and police discovered the horrifying scene...reminiscent of what had been found at Ed Gein’s place in Plainfield, Wisconsin, back in 1957.
Crowley in custody - © 2026 Headless Horseman Productions, LLC
In custody, Crowley quickly confessed to a mass of killings. During his interrogation, he openly, adamantly admitted to investigators that he was a werewolf.
THOMAS: I have to kill to satisfy a hunger for blood. It never stops! Please...please, I beg you, kill me or I will strike again.
Glances among the powers that be were exchanged. But when records of his army discharge were uncovered…they convinced themselves they were dealing with someone who was mentally unstable. That fit everyone’s need to explain it all so simply.
And while authorities sorted through all of the ghastly information and evidence, it was decided Crowley should be held at a mental hospital in nearby Burkettsville, to await arraignment.
He was transported to the hospital on a dark and stormy night. A police escort making their way through a driving rain. After the transfer, the once-in-a-century storm washed out the nearby bridge making it impossible for anyone to get in or out...the staff was trapped.
As the tempest raged, high winds disabled phone and power to the building. The hospital became a sealed concrete island, and in the violence of the weather, it felt like the safest place to be. The facility was locked down. Doctors, nurses, and orderlies settled in for a long night.
But just after midnight, a commotion erupted in the wing Crowley was being held. Two orderlies rushed to his darkened cell and found him convulsing. Under flashlight beams, they witnessed him transforming into something hideous. They tried to secure the door in time, but the werewolf Crowley was too fast...and too strong. He killed both men, then tore into the blackened corridor, hunting for blood and freedom. The beast went on a nightlong rampage. And trapped inside with the raging monster, the staff and dozens of prisoners were slaughtered in his wake.
Werewolf Crowley rampaging at the state mental hospital - © 2026 Headless Horseman Productions, LLC
As morning came, and the storm lifted, help arrived…Police were horrified at the aftermath. Those fortunate enough to have survived would wildly rave about the terrifying creature they witnessed. Paramedics were called to tend to the wounded. Law enforcement searched the entire facility, but found no trace of Thomas Crowley...that’s because he was already gone, on his way to a medical hospital disguised as one of the survivors.
When authorities realized the truth, it was too late. The ambulance transporting him, was found miles from the hospital, crashed on the side of the road. Inside, the medics were dead...and Crowley had vanished.
The wild and frenzied attack, left a few survivors, which created an offshoot of other werewolves. Six prisoners at Burkettsville were infected with the curse. Realizing the danger and shocking implications, state authorities had the contaminated victims euthanized. The facts of the case were suppressed and records were destroyed. Thomas Crowley, meanwhile, was designated “Public Enemy #1”, a shoot-to-kill order was attached to every bulletin bearing his name.
But Thomas was no where to be found. Led by Fenrir’s cunning, Crowley controlled himself long enough to flee all the way to Canada. He crossed the border in the expanse of the unguarded forests of Minnesota...vanishing into the wilderness of Ontario.
For years he sheltered in an abandon hunting shack, living primitively. Stalking the woods like a predator. He’d kidnap hunters and hikers when he could, and kill larger game to eat when he had to.
It was a dark time for Crowley, his mind loosened its grip on the world, past the last points of certainty. His thoughts no longer followed one another, holding only fractured and echoed memories. He drifted through a reality that wouldn’t hold steady beneath his feet. Untethered, moving through a world that no longer agreed on what was real.
One of the Four Pillars, hiding inside of Crowley - © 2026 Headless Horseman Productions, LLC
An aside...an elemental power radiated inside of Crowley. The pulse was there, but he was never in a right enough mind to connect with it. Yet something else lived within him, deeper, older. Fused to his being was the Soul of Suffering. One of the Four Pillars Satan sought to harvest, to lead the Dark in the war against mankind. Not all the Pillars had yet been gathered, moving through existence, growing stronger with each rebirth. And this one was hardening, marred by pain, sharpened by tragedy, feeding on the ruin Crowley carried...Still buried deep…still alive past any reasonable expiration, preserved by the werewolf curse. And if it were to ever be freed, it had blossomed into something extraordinarily powerful.
In November of 1969, Death watched as Crowley stalked a small group on a hunting trip. A yearly tradition, five friends renting a cabin off Mojikit Lake, near Thunder Bay, blowing off some much needed steam on a long weekend. Crowley shadowed them through the woods as they set out early in the morning.
The men had no luck that day. The forest felt unnaturally quiet, unaware the silence existed because an apex predator had entered their world. Hearing noises, feeling watched…one of them spotted Crowley down by a creek, his appearance feral and unsettling. Another stumbled upon the decaying shack filled with human bones and half-eaten remains.
As a group, they decided to cut their trip short and report what they’d found, believing a psycho killer was roaming the dense forest.
Hunting the hunters - © 2026 Headless Horseman Productions, LLC
Returning to the cabin, they found it had broken into and ransacked. Their vehicles were inoperable. Their tires slashed. With no way to call for help and heavy snow falling, they cautiously hiked through the woods, hoping to reach the highway and flag someone down before trouble found them -- But they got turned around in the worsening storm, and were forced back to the cabin.
As the sun set, Crowley set fire to the shelter, trying to smoke them out. Then he shifted into his beast form, ready to feed. Spotting the creature stalking the darkness, the men fought back, firing through shattered windows. But the flames forced them outside, where they were picked off one by one by the werewolf.
The last man managed to wound him -- a well-placed shot to the chest. The blast would’ve killed any mortal man...or animal. But Crowley ran, vanishing into the storm. His body, and the hidden element inside, healing him in a blinding flash of Light.
TO BE CONTINUED…