The forest is ususally a quiet peaceful place, usually. Not this year, not ever again. In the summer of 92 Californias Redwood Forest was not. A 250 man search party all for one man. 2 hikers were walking through the forest and found a purse with a splatter of blood on it. They looked around and one of them found a trail of clothes and blood. They were terrified but what the trail led to was simply grotesque. A pile of human bone, organs, and muscle was sitting a pile, the bones making a tent like structure. But there was no skin. This is when California State police got a frantic call. An autopsy was done on what was left. The autopsy came back inconclusive from five different doctors. Keep in mind this story became known nationwide. And who or what would kill and skin a human being? Meet John Slakt born in 1971 to an alcholic father and a mother that had some sense. He lives alone in his log cabin right on the road to old Redwood National Park. As a child its hard when your dads an alchoholic. Now combine that with cocaine, a new girlfriend every month, an unstable job, and a short temper. Oh and the bullies John was only five foot two and went to trade school, thats short. He was learning taxodermy. His most common nickname was three eyes. He got this when his drunken father thought it would be fun to rub a lit ciggarette in the middle of his sons forehead. Yeah he had a fucked up childhood. At 16 however life got easier after he tied his dad and his dads current girlfriend onto their bed. He then slit the girls throat with a butter knife, and then proceeded to make his father drink an entire bottle of 90 proof vodka which caused him to die of alchol poisining. He then skinned each of them, swapping their skins his dad with his girlfriends and vice versa. But we should get back to the present. The cops ended up finding ten more body’s in the same disgusting condition, skinned and gutted. It was a mystery until a search party found a cabin with two human skins on a clothes line, drying. As they enter the stench of rotting meat fills their lungs. Seven huntinh plaques named after each of the seven days in a week. Each of them had what looked like dried human skin with a zipper down the middle, from the top of the forehead to the crotch. Except one plaque, the one for Tuesday was missing. A young girl about twelve walked to the group of five men who looked very puzzled. She grabbed one of their hands and lead through a dark hallway to an even darker room. It smelled of death, rotting meat, and mold. It had concrete walls and no windows. When the girl flicked on the light. A twenty foot pit was revealed. About ten feet of it was ash the other ten was a pile of organs and bones, presumeablly human. She let out a soft laugh but her voice was lost in the sound of eleven gun shots. The five cops lay dead… At the feet of John Slakt in the skin of his trade schools principal. Amidst this one the other six included his birth mothers, his psychologist, his childhood best friend, hid grandfathers, his ex wife, and his step brother. Each even had the same outfit the victim worr before death. But he kept a special one over his bed… His own. The twenty-one year old lived the next thirty years of his life in peace, until he was shot by a poacher on accident. After the police were called by him they found John in his moms skin carrying a dead doe, about a year old. This ends the story of John, his daughter however is said to still lived somewhere among the Redwoods wearing John’s skin looking for victims.