Nobody saw it coming. That’s what makes this so terrifying.
HIS VICTIMS DESERVE TO BE REMEMBERED.
The victim names follow—the same seven from Billy’s file, but here, they’re credited to Nicholas Grady.
I keep reading, each word punching the air from my lungs:
Despite one of the largest manhunts in Maine’s history, Grady disappeared.
Grady is presumed dead, but the FBI regularly updates their age-progression images (latest attached below), and honestly? I think he’s still out there.
IF YOU THINK YOU’VE SEEN HIM: DO NOT APPROACH. Grady is considered extremely dangerous. The FBI tip line remains active, and there’s still a $250,000 reward for information leading to his capture.
Everyone in the comments on the post has a theory about where he disappeared to. Some think he’s dead. Some think he changed his name and is living a normal life somewhere. Some think he never stopped killing.
There are photos attached to the post. I see the FBI age-progression first, which is computer-generated and doesn’t look quite like a real person. The man’s hair is reddish brown. The computer smoothed out his face too much, made his skin look waxy and artificial, like those creepy reconstructions of Egyptian mummies you see in museums. His jaw is square, his nose is wide, his eyes are green, and he has the same dimple in his chin as Nico does.
My hands start shaking so badly that I almost drop my phone.
I scroll down to the yearbook photo, needing to see it, needing to prove myself wrong, except the second it loads, I know I’m not wrong at all.
He has to be sixteen or seventeen with a scattering of acne across his forehead, and that boyish softness teenagers still have in their faces. His hair is the same color as in the age progression photo, and he’s smiling so big with his teeth showing and his eyes creasing in a way I’ve never seen on the Nico I know.
He looks so young. So normal.
But it’s him.
The room tilts sideways. I grip the cushiony armrest so hard my knuckles go white because if I don’t hold onto something solid, I’m going to fall right out of this chair.
I swipe to the next photo, and this one shows him at a track meet. The caption reads:Grady competing in the 5K at regionals three weeks before the murders began.
The next photo shows him standing with his family in a school hallway. His mom has graying auburn hair tied in a neat bun and kind eyes behind tortoiseshell glasses. His dad is tall but still inches shorter than his freakishly tall son, with the same sharp features and serious expression. A girl with chestnut hair stands on Nico’s other side, wearing heavy stage makeup and holding a bouquet. Nora. She has the same eyes as Nico, or at least what his eyes used to be—green and bright and exuding happiness.
I wonder if being twins meant Nico and Nora were extra close. If Rosie had been my twin, I have no doubt we would’ve been. Compared to her, I was shy. I might have been a yapper and known for opening my mouth before thinking, but that wasn’t exactly endearing. Rosie had this electric energy about her, always the first to dance in public, compliment a stranger, and make comments that made every adult she knew talk about what a firecracker she was.
Did Nora notice what was happening to Nico? Did she notice warning signs nobody else caught, or was she just as blindsided as everyone else?
I scroll down to find seven faces staring back at me. A collage of the victims, arranged in the order they died. They all have the same black hair I have. They have my pale skin. My wiry build. Allison has my freckles. Emily’s got the same pointed chin. All of their faces blur together, and all of a sudden, I’m looking at alternate versions of me, all lined up in a row.
I’m his fucking type.
Billy’s. Billy’s type.
Nico didn’t choose these girls. Billy picked them.Billymade Nico approach them, hurt them, kill them.
This must be why Nico wanted me to leave. Why he was nice to me in the parking lot, before he knew I’d be joining the team.
It’s because I look likethem.
I search for more articles. The results multiply across my screen like a hydra—kill one search result and three more take its place.
Inside the Mind of a Teen Monster
How Nicholas Grady Lured His Victims
Boy Next Door Killer’s Brutal Methods Revealed
That last article describes how he approached them in public places, doing things like offering them rides home or helping with groceries, then he smashed them over the head with a tire iron and dragged them into his car. He drove them to an isolated location and beat them with any blunt object he had, before he?—
