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"The Millcreek Ghoul"

Name - Jeffrey Allen Nicholl

Age/DOB - 18 (born June 2nd, 1990)

Race/Ethnicity - Caucasian

Gender Identity & Sexual Orientation - Cisgender Male, Heterosexual

Family - Janette Evelyn Nicholl (sister, 21), Juliette Leanne Nicholl (mother, 41), Thomas Michael Nicholl (estranged father, 45), Louis Roman Hardesty (half-brother, 16) Mary Ann Woods (Juliette’s sister/aunt of Jeff and Jane, 40)

Kill Count - 6* (*confirmed homicides only, true number could be much higher)

Case Overview

A deeply disturbed and troubled young man, Jeffrey Nicholl was always one to keep an eye on. Originally born in New Orleans, Louisiana during the summer of 1990, he - along with his mother Juilie and older sister Jane - later relocated to Millcreek, Utah in the wake of the tumultuous separation of his parents.

For a time, things were going alright for the Nicholl family. Or, at least, they were for Juile and Jane. As for Jeff, his mind was going through an unnerving metamorphosis. His thoughts grew darker, his outlook more misanthropic, his actions more impulsive, and his view on his family steadily became far more resentful. His small group of so-called ‘friends’ certainly didn’t help when it came to Jeff’s darker side. But, it was a chance encounter with the girlfriend of his friend, Randall Keith Evans, that really hastened his descent.

On Halloween night, 2008, Jeff was set ablaze by an angry, jealous Evans alongside his two other friends David Thomas Hewitt and Christian Michael Hawkins after being tricked into spending that night with them. After that, Jeff’s psyche was beyond the point of no return. The Jeffrey Allen Nicholl that most people knew was effectively dead, with what stood in his stead being the culmination of his distilled rage.

It would be just over a month until Jeff got out of hospital. Countless hours spent being pumped full of medication and trying to reconstruct his face into something more recognisably him, and the only thing that time managed to do was to allow Jeff’s darkest thoughts to free themselves from the furthest recesses of his mind. All of this would lead to the night of December 19th.

By this point, Jeff had been able to regain his mobility. He rose from his bed and, naturally, he was curious as to how he now looked. He wandered towards the nearest mirror and carefully began to remove the gauze that covered his face. As the wraps fell to the floor and he got his glimpse of his warped flesh, Jeff remained deathly silent. He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of his new appearance. He just stood there for a while, staring back into the mirror.

In a flash, Jeff’s balled fist furiously connected with the mirror - the thick glass shattering with some of it falling to the floor while what little still desperately clinging to the frame was fractured. Jeff’s gaze then slipped downwards. His eyes became fixated on a particularly jagged shard. Silently dwelling for a moment, Jeff started to notice his quickening breaths had become strained and laboured. Perhaps in a bit of a delirious state, Jeff crouched and took hold of the shard, quickly standing back up as his bandaged fingers wrapped around the glass. Locking eyes with his reflection once more, Jeff then began to crudely carve into his cheeks - giving himself a grotesque, crooked smile. At last, he could feel himself being able to breathe normally again.

This moment of relief would only be brief, however. One of the nurses that regularly attended to Jeff had been alerted by the sounds of the shattered mirror and hurried over just in time to see her patient’s morbid spin on reconstructive surgery. A shrill shriek alerted Jeff to her presence. He turned to face her and, as he locked eyes with her, she tried desperately to reason with him. Her efforts would be for nought, and would cost the nurse her life.