Interview with Loretta Hudson

Loretta Hudson has lived in the same house in my town for 65 years. After her husband passed in 2003, she raised her granddaughter, Alexandra, on her own. In 2020, Alexandra was a victim in a string of murders in Bucks County. Her killer, Henry Hopkins, was tried and found not guilty by reason of mental disease and defect. The local news and true crime blogs had nicknamed him Mr. Skinn in reference to his method of skinning his victims. However, Hopkins was only confined to Newtown Psychiatric Hospital for less than four months before his escape in October 2020. 

Loretta Hudson and I could not be more different. However, we have one cruel commonality: we have both had a loved one stolen from us by Mr. Skinn. I reached out to Mrs. Hudson early on in my search for Jennifer. I thought hearing from someone else who had been close to one of his victims may shed some light on something the others missed in Jennifer's last days, something she didn't put in the blog. 

Through our conversation, I learned that Alexandra was taking classes at Bucks County Community College to become a kindergarten teacher. She loved dogs and snowboarding and hated the inescapable heat of the summer months. Mrs. Hudson describes her granddaughter with every ounce of love and nostalgia that you'd expect, until she begins to reminisce about her last days. 

When Mr. Skinn began his short-lived killing spree, the police had been certain in the fact that it had not been pre-meditated. His victims were random, pulled from the running trail that he stalked from the comfort of his make-shift hideout under Schofield Ford Covered Bridge. 

When Mrs. Hudson speaks about the last few times she saw Alexandra alive, she stares off into space as if recalling a particularly horrible dream. Allegedly, Alexandra was starting to seem distant, drifting off in the middle of conversation and complaining about strange dreams that she often confused with reality. Mrs. Hudson attempts to assure me that the police assured her these dreams were in no way related to her death. But I can't help but feel unconvinced. 

In the last days before her disappearance, Jennifer wrote about experiencing strange dreams on the blog. I can't help but wonder if some of the things she wrote about in her last days were actually dreams that she couldn't discern from reality. She reported being on the crime scene of an animal mutilation that police records can't confirm ever happened, being cut off from town, stuck without cell service, radio and television signals. She said she hadn't seen another person in days despite being at home with our parents. 

What if Mr. Skinn was smarter than he let on? What if the story of his mental breakdown and spontaneous killing spree was simply a show to get sent somewhere with less security, somewhere easier to escape from? Was he stalking his victims in the days before he attacked? Was he drugging them, making sure they'd be disoriented when he chose to strike? To answer all of these questions I need to know more. How smart was Henry Hopkins, really? Who is Mr. Skinn? 


October 7th, 2020

I’ve had no service or internet all day. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to upload this entry, but I have to write down what’s happened today and hope that someone sees it. Last night, Mr. Skinn escaped Newtown Psychiatric Hospital with several other inmates who he had been recruiting for his cult. The police and the media are lying about what’s going on to keep the situation from getting out of control. They must have messed with the cell towers because no messages are getting in or out by phone. It’s like the entire town is on lock down. Everyone in town has been shut in their homes with their doors locked tight, but I had to go out and investigate for myself. I went to Schofield Covered Bridge where Mr. Skinn was last found hiding out to see if I could find any traces of him or his followers. It seemed like someone had been living there recently and there were Satanic s̸y̵m̵b̵o̷l̸s̸ covering the underside of the bridge. Upon further research, I found that the symbols matched the ones found among the animal mutilations. I’ve tried calling the police station all day to report what I’ve found but the line is blocked. I feel like I’m g̵o̵i̶n̷g̵ ̸c̵r̴a̷z̶y̴. I haven’t seen or spoken to another person in t̸w̸o̸ ̶d̸a̴y̸s̸ ̷ ψ. I’ve been having the weirdest d̸̹̙͓̓̀̾̅̕r̵̹̒͗̔̌̑̇͠͠ȩ̷̡͉̳͈̀̇̓̽̈́̕͠͝a̸̡͙̳̘̞̅̄͐́͌͆̒͝m̴̟̻̪̮͛̄̌̎̄̌͠͝ṡ̶͓̪̹̱͆ . Wait, I just saw a shadow pass by my window. But it could be my eyes playing tricks on me, or no, wait, I think there’s someone outside my house. He’s just standing there on the lawn. He keeps staring at me, his head crooked. I can’t see his face in the dark, but he is staring into the window like he sees me. I just heard something break in the basement. Oh God. I can hear footsteps coming up the stairs. If anybody is reading this- please, send help. 

̫̣̣͙͓M̴̻̻̎́̐ṛ̶̛͕̈́̌ ̸͔̔S̵̗̽̚ķ̷̱̠́̓i̵̹̿̈́n̶̥͚̣̾̽͑n̶̨̺̜̚ ̴̧͎̦̔̊̄I̷̼̝̫̒s̸̳̼̓͠ ̴̢̛͖̺̀̊Ŗ̴̫͑͐̀e̵̗͓͂̍͝a̴̝̺̒͊̍͜d̵̹̑y̶̯̙̓̈́ ̵̪̩̆̚N̴͍͝o̷̞̤͗̿̀w̴̬͛ ̵̧͖̳̅̐̊ ̴̡͉̞̀̑̿


October 6th, 2020

After almost 3 months of no strange activity in Bucks County, and just as I was getting ready to return to my life back in California, something else happened. Another animal massacre took place last night. I saw the coverage of it on the news this morning and recognized the M.O. immediately. Six animals were mutilated under a full moon but every news channel was reporting that it was just an animal attack. I went to the crime scene and it left me with more questions than answers. The police were quick to dismiss me when they learned I was trying to get the story and there were no other reporters on the scene. I immediately felt like something was off. This town is small and close-knit. I’ve known nearly every resident since the time I was a kid and yet, I didn’t know the officer I spoke to. He told me he was from out of town and was just called in on this case. I asked him why they would call him in for an animal attack and he got angry with me and told me to vacate the premises. I told him I wouldn’t leave until I could talk to Mr. Sellers, the man who owned the farm, to get his side of the story. 

This is where it gets weird. The officer told me that Mr. Sellers had left early this morning after calling the police to go stay with family out of town. Immediately, alarm bells went off in my mind. Mr. Sellers had lived on this farm for as long as I can remember. When I was 15, his wife passed away and I remember my mother telling me she was the only family he had left. Not only that, Mr. Sellers is a man who wouldn’t hesitate to warn troublesome teens to stay off of his farm unless they wanted to witness him make use of his second amendment rights. As a teen, even I was the victim of some of his crazy tirades for simply loitering outside the local 7/11. It didn’t make sense to me that he would just up and leave the rest of his animals unattended and half of his field unharvested. The more questions I asked, the angrier the officer got until I was forced to leave the farm. 

I got in my car and tried to drive into town to talk to some residents, but every road into town was closed off due to construction, yet I didn’t see a single construction worker. As I drove around, attempting to find another way into town, I noticed I hadn’t seen a single car on the road all day. It was eerily quiet. More than normal for the rural area. 

My head was swimming with questions as I drove home. Where had Mr. Sellers gone? Was this really sacrificial cult work? Was it related to Mr. Skinn? Why was the news reporting that it was an animal attack? Where the hell is everyone? 

As I pulled into my driveway, before turning off the car, the radio switched on at full volume and an ear piercing SCREECH came out. I slammed on the buttons trying to turn the volume down with no luck, the radio seemed to have a mind of its own. Just as it felt like my ear drums were going to burst, the sound stopped, and a song started to play through the static: 

Mr. Skinn Is Ready Now. Make Sure That You Will Not Frown. Mr. Skinn is Ready Now. Hunt You Down. Hunt You Down Hunt You Down. 

Just as quickly as it had begun, the sound stopped. In my rush to get out of the car and into the house, I nearly tripped over today’s newspaper on the front step. 


August 10th, 2020

It has been 3 weeks since I moved home to investigate the Satanic Six and it seems like as soon as I got here, talk of any cult activity vanished upon my arrival. It was almost suspicious how quiet everything seemed. The town has remained mostly unchanged since I left 6 years ago and the usual gossiping residents seem unwilling to talk about anything that may upset the calm of the late summer months. I was able to interview a few people but didn’t turn up with anything useful. The farmers were convinced the mutilations were nothing but teen pranks, riding on the wave of terror brought on by the mysterious Mr. Skinn. I wonder if they came to this conclusion themselves or if the police tipped them off to calm their suspicions. When I spoke with the police, they were a dead end. They practically laughed me out of the precinct when I came around asking questions, but something tells me they’re hiding information to keep the peace with residents. After the Mr. Skinn fiasco, the last thing they need is a bunch of paranoid townies. A woman at the grocery store today did tell me she’s afraid her grandson is part of the Satanic Six because he plays violent video games and watches horror movies. If that was the cult criteria I’m sure they would have tried to recruit me by now. 

As I was leaving the grocery store I caught sight of today’s newspaper: 


July 16th, 2020

Another farm was targeted by the “Satanic Six”. My parents are becoming increasingly concerned for their own safety, so I’ve decided to move home for a while. I told my mom I would feel better if I was there in case something happened. There’s safety in numbers after all.  But to be honest, something has been eating at me the last few weeks, even before the mutilations started occurring. It’s been calling me to go home and investigate this case myself. It may be dangerous, so I’ve decided to start this blog to keep track of whatever I may find. 


July 7th, 2020

My mother called me on the phone absolutely hysterical last night. She told me animals are being found mutilated in farms all over the county. The first case happened last week and everyone had assumed it was an animal that had wandered out of the woods during the night, but now that a second farm in the area is reporting similar incidents, police are starting to think foul play is involved. My mother says the locals are talking about Mr. Skinn again. Even though Henry Hopkins was committed last month, residents are worried that a cult he started is making animal sacrifices in his name. There’s no evidence that the two are connected, after all, police said they never could find anyone who had even come in contact with Henry during his killing spree, let alone helped him. However, it is concerning. At each farm, exactly 6 animals were killed, and strange symbols were found on the surrounding barns. Because of this, the locals have dubbed the alleged cult “The Satanic Six”. Plus, all of this happening so soon after Hopkin’s trial, especially when the area has been known for its quiet hospitality, it seems like it can’t be coincidental. Whatever’s happening back home, it feels like the worst is still imminent. 


June 16th, 2020

Henry, a.k.a Mr. Skinn, had his trial today. The media has been gone crazy covering the story.  Everyone wants to see the story of “Loving Father Turned Psycho Killer”. I can’t say I am any better though. I’ve watched the news coverage on it all day. It is extremely hard to watch. He skinned and murdered at least 6 women hiking in the area so close to my home, in the same woods I used to explore as a child. Something about the whole thing just doesn’t sit right with me. Maybe it’s the fact that it happened so close to the idyllic hometown that only exists in my memories. Or maybe it’s because the guy could barely stand up in the courtroom, let alone answer any of the questions. In the end, the judge found him not guilty for reasons of “mental disease and defect” and he was sent to Newtown Psychiatric Hospital. As he was taken away by police he was shouting “hunt you down, hunt you down” over and over again. It’s been playing on loop in my head all day. 


June 14th, 2020

After over a week in custody, Mr. Skinn has finally been identified. Henry Hopkins, 52, a lifetime resident of Bucks County. Local gossip says he went crazy when his 6-year-old daughter was killed in a hit-and-run about a month ago. The driver was never found, and police closed the case with little investigation. After doing a bit of research, I was able to find a news article about the incident. It almost makes you feel bad for the guy. He clearly loved his daughter.


June 6th, 2020

    A friend from my hometown in Pennsylvania called me on the phone yesterday. She said that a man had been arrested for allegedly murdering and skinning multiple women in Tyler State Park. He was found hiding out in the woods in our small rural county outside of the city. I was shocked to say the least. I would almost expect this kind of crazy from the city, but out in Bucks County, something this dark was out of the ordinary. Outsiders were quick to say it was to be expected: the psycho serial killer hiding out deep in the woods where he could prey on unsuspecting hikers and nature enthusiasts. But the locals know better. 

    The newspapers are saying that he was recruiting members to join his cult. Even worse, although the man is in custody, police have yet been able to truly identify him. They said when they asked what his name was he’d only give one answer: Mr. Skinn. 

Interview with Loretta Hudson

Loretta Hudson has lived in the same house in my town for 65 years. After her husband passed in 2003, she raised her granddaughter, Alexandr...