Four days before Christmas in 1992, two sisters, nine-year-old Nicole Schoo and four-year-old Diana, knocked on a neighbor’s door in Chicago. They were freezing, frightened, and completely alone. Their parents had boarded a plane to Acapulco for a nine-day vacation, leaving the girls behind with frozen meals, written instructions, and no adult supervision.

As days passed, the situation inside the house spiraled. A blaring fire alarm and an overflowing bathtub finally forced the children to call 911. What police found shocked the nation. There was no babysitter, no emergency contact, and no way for the girls to reach their parents. Investigators soon learned this was not a mistake. The children had been intentionally left alone.

When David and Sharon Schoo returned from their tropical trip, police arrested them at the airport. As the case unfolded, allegations of prior neglect and abuse emerged, raising serious questions about how the family had gone unnoticed for so long.

The fallout changed the law. Public outrage led Illinois to pass the Home Alone Bill, clearly defining when children can legally be left unsupervised. Nicole and Diana were removed from their parents’ custody, later adopted, and have remained out of the public eye ever since.

This is the real life Home Alone case that ended with a law meant to protect children nationwide.

On Thanksgiving weekend in 2010, three brothers Andrew, Alexander, and Tanner Skelton vanished during a court ordered holiday visit with their father, John Skelton. What was supposed to be a routine custody exchange became one of the most haunting child disappearance cases in the Midwest.

John claimed he handed the boys to a woman named Joann Taylor to keep them safe while he attempted suicide. Investigators later proved Joann Taylor did not exist. Neither did the underground foster network John insisted had taken his sons. With no bodies, no witnesses, and no clear timeline, the case stalled while John served time for unrelated charges.

Now, fifteen years later, everything has changed. In 2025, prosecutors officially charged John Skelton with the murders of all three boys just weeks before his expected release from prison. Investigators believe new evidence finally supports what many feared from the beginning.

As the case moves back into court, one question still hangs over everything. Will these charges finally reveal what happened to the Skelton brothers, or will the truth remain buried forever?

Jamie Fraley was just twenty-two when she stepped out for a late-night hospital trip and vanished without a trace. Her purse, wallet, keys, and dog were left untouched in her locked apartment, but her phone was later found abandoned a mile away.

Detectives quickly focused on one man Ricky Simonds Sr, Jamie’s neighbor and future father-in-law. A convicted strangler fresh out of prison, he was the last person known to have seen her. But before investigators could question him further, Ricky was found dead in the trunk of his girlfriend’s car. The case collapsed instantly. No suspect. No confession. No Jamie.

Sixteen years later, the mystery still grips North Carolina. Did Jamie’s neighbor kill her and take the truth to the grave, or is someone else responsible for her disappearance

Kenneth Parks committed one of the strangest and most controversial crimes in modern history. In 1987, he drove fourteen miles in the middle of the night to his in-laws home and attacked them, leaving his mother-in-law dead and his father-in-law severely injured. Then, covered in blood, he walked into a police station and confessed.

But Parks insisted he had been asleep the entire time. Doctors found no signs of psychosis, only a lifelong pattern of sleepwalking and night terrors. His defense argued that he experienced a violent sleepwalking episode and never woke up during the attack.

In a shocking outcome, the jury agreed. Parks was acquitted of murder and walked free, creating one of the most debated legal precedents in Canadian history. He has lived quietly ever since, with no further violence.

So what do you think happened that night? A tragic medical mystery or the perfect excuse for murder?

John Robinson was the last person anyone expected to become one of America's most disturbing killers. A churchgoing father, Scoutmaster, and respected Kansas City businessman, he hid a second life built on manipulation, fraud, and murder. Under his online persona, the Slavemaster, Robinson lured vulnerable women with promises of work, housing, and love, only for them to disappear without a trace.

When investigators finally closed in on him in 2000, they uncovered a nightmare across two states. Barrels filled with bodies. Forged letters to families. Stolen identities. And one devastating truth: baby Heather Robinson, raised by Robinson's brother, was actually the daughter of one of his victims, Lisa Stasi.

Robinson's crimes earned him the title of America's first internet serial killer. Now on death row, he has never fully revealed how many women he targeted or how far his violence went. Was he a con man who escalated into murder, or was he always a predator waiting for the internet to give him cover?

In January 1958, nineteen-year-old Charles Starkweather and his fourteen-year-old girlfriend, Caril Ann Fugate, launched one of the most terrifying killing sprees in American history. Over eight days across Nebraska and Wyoming, ten people were murdered in shootings, stabbings, and home invasions that blindsided communities and left entire towns sheltering indoors.

Their victims ranged from Caril’s family to strangers who simply crossed their path. As police scrambled to make sense of the violence, Starkweather embraced the fear he created. Fugate told investigators a very different story, claiming she had been taken hostage and believed her family was still alive. Starkweather supported her version, then reversed himself, pointing the blame back at her.

Captured after a high-speed chase in Wyoming, Starkweather was sentenced to death and executed in 1959. Fugate, only fifteen at the time of the crimes, was convicted of murder and served seventeen years before being released. More than sixty years later, questions about her true role have never been fully resolved.

Was Caril Ann Fugate a prisoner, a participant, or something in between?

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Nineteen-year-old music student Jessie Blodgett returned home from a cast party, went to sleep in her childhood bedroom, and never woke up. By morning, her mother found a scene that shattered the quiet town of Hartford, Wisconsin. There was no forced entry and no clear motive, leaving investigators with more questions than answers.

Then, in a nearby town, a young woman survived a violent attack in a park. Her detailed account pointed police toward someone no one expected. Jessie’s close friend, Daniel Bartelt, had been the last person anyone would suspect. But a slip during questioning, a blue van, and a roll of HVAC tape began to connect the two crimes.

When detectives searched Bartelt’s home and the trash cans at the park, the pieces snapped into place. DNA, ropes, tape, and his own writings revealed a disturbing double life. Bartelt was spending his days pretending to work, isolating himself, and writing violent fantasies while spiraling further into darkness.

Jessie’s family now carries her legacy forward through the Love Is Greater Than Hate Project, ensuring her light continues to reach others long after her life was stolen.

What do you think happened that summer? Did Daniel plan this, or did something snap?

Joseph Naso spent more than fifty years living a quiet life as a photographer, drifting from California to Nevada and blending into every neighborhood he entered. But behind the camera, he was documenting something far darker. Hidden in his home were thousands of photographs of women, mannequins posed like victims, and a handwritten “top 10” list that pointed investigators toward cold cases stretching back decades.

A routine probation check in 2010 blew his secrets open. Detectives discovered journals detailing attacks, coded entries about women he called “projects,” and a disturbing pattern connecting him to the murders of women with matching double initials. His meticulous note taking and trophy keeping revealed the mind of a killer who treated murder like a lifelong hobby.

Even today, from death row, Naso’s secrets are still helping investigators identify victims and reopen long unresolved mysteries. The evidence he left behind continues to answer old questions while raising new ones.

How many victims did Joseph Naso really have, and how many are still waiting to be identified?