Despite being buried six feet down, some spirits have a habit of rising above. This episode of Map’s End discusses sensitive matters. Listener discretion is advised. Content warnings can be accessed via the episode description.
This episode contains discussions of sexual coercion and familial rape as well as frank descriptions of violence. Listener discretion is advised.
This episode contains discussion of sexual coersion and familial rape as well as frank descriptions of violence.
This episode of Map’s End discusses sensitive matters. Listener discretion is advised. Content warnings can be accessed via the episode description.
The idea that ghosts not only exist, but walk among us is certainly not a new one. There’s no solid date for when humans first started incorporating ghosts into their stories, but examples can be seen everywhere, from Homer's The Odyssey, to the Biblical books of the Prophet Samuel, and even in records from Ancient Rome’s Pliny the Younger. There’s no way to tell who came first, at least not in a “chicken and the egg” manner, but what we DO know is that ghosts have been a staple of written tradition for as long as it has existed. Many cultures kept careful records of the proper ways to treat a body after death, and the consequences that would follow should a spirit view its remains as disrespected show us the very real fear and reverence people held for their dead. There are also just as many stories of spirits returning in order to enact revenge, or right the wrongs done to them in life- stories of ghosts bringing their murderer to justice, or tormenting a hateful spouse. Regardless of the motivation, it’s fair to say that people have continually been vexed at least by the possibility of ghosts, if not by the real thing.
And of course, in our modern world of atheistic resolve, there are more than enough skeptics to tear any story apart. But sometimes the truth seems unavoidable, and it’s hard to dispute that. Whatever it is happening, it’s certainly something beyond our understanding. But if you’d let me, gentle Listener, I’d like to have a go at it anyway, and coax you right up alongside me to the map’s end. But be warned; Here, there be monsters.
Situated shortly behind the town of Kaifeck and just north of the city of Munich, a stone farm building served as home to the Gruber family. The family included 63 year old Andreas Gruber and his wife Cazilia, as well as their 35 year old daughter, Viktoria Gabriel, and her two children; 7 year old Cazilia and 2 year old Josef.
The family was generally reclusive, not coming out much beyond necessary, and frankly, the neighbors were just fine with that. Andreas was not well-liked, and had a reputation for his temper, as well as some more disquieting accusations.
Maria Baumgartner (44) had also just moved in with the family to work as their new maid. She was hired to replace the previous maid, who had quit six months previously after no longer being able to bear the strangeness on the farm. Some reports quote her as directly stating she believed the farm to be haunted, recounting hearing footsteps on the floor above her room at night, only to find the space empty upon investigation, as well as a pervasive and dreadful feeling of being watched. Though any quotes from her would be second or third hand, as she never addressed her fears in any official statement or letter, those who knew her said that by the time she worked up the nerve to quit, she did so as a much paler and gaunter woman than she had been at the start.
And it would be easy enough to sweep aside if it was just her, but the farm and the Gruber family itself remained shrouded in wary darkness. As I said before, they weren’t the friendliest sort, and at least according to the locals, that darkness was palpable. From the gossiping stories of unexplained events, to the downright sinister accusations levied at the family, they were by no means seen as innocent people who just happened to endure more than their share of life’s little quirks.
And the neighbors had good reason to be wary. In 1915, both Andreas and Viktoria were arrested under suspicion of an incestuous relationship. Without going into unnecessary detail, it was and remains largely believed that Viktoria was a victim of her father for years. She moved back in with her parents after the death of her husband, Karl Gabriel, whom she had married in 1914, only a year before the arrests. It was well known that Andreas hated Karl, and the marriage was brief, Karl being drafted into the first world war only 8 months into the marriage and dying on the German front one month before the birth of their daughter. After the 1915 arrests, Andreas was sentenced to a year in prison, and Viktoria to a month, which they served.
Viktoria’s second child, Josef, was born in 1919 to an unmarried mother. Viktoria claimed Josef was the son of Lorenz Schlittenbauer, a man who lived in a neighboring town whom she had had a brief relationship with in 1918, but had been barred from marrying by Andreas, who reportedly locked her in a wardrobe to keep the couple apart when Lorenz came to ask for her hand. Lorenz disputed the paternity claim, saying that though he and Viktoria had engaged in relations, it hadn’t been recent enough to be the cause of her pregnancy. In retaliation, Lorenz reported his suspicions to the police, saying the child was the product of paternal incest. Andreas was arrested yet again, only serving one month this time as the ruling was overturned when Lorenz made a statement that he had fabricated the story and was, in fact, the father, agreeing to pay the Gruber’s legal fees as well as child support. That didn’t settle any rumors though, especially not when the story got around that Viktoria had shown up at Lorenz’s door in complete disarray, crying and begging him to rescind his statement, offering him the money he needed to pay the legal fines and child support in exchange for his sworn statement. In the end, Andreas may have been freed, but the whole affair did little to exonerate him in the eyes of the neighbors, or history itself.
And despite their best attempts to lay low, things never really got easier. Andreas began to hear the ghostly footsteps as well, a figure seemingly pacing the attic floor only to vanish upon inspection. There were tangible proofs too- One story recounts a newspaper being found that everyone in the house denied buying. Assuming it was an error on the postman’s part, Gruber tried to return the misplaced newsletter, only to learn that no one in the area was subscribed to that journal. Between the phantom paper and unexplained disappearance of various small items, such as house keys, the farm was nothing if not unsettling. All in all, it’s not a surprise the Grubers had difficulty retaining help, so it really was an uncharacteristic stroke of luck for them when Maria Baumgartner arrived, ready to begin as their live-in maid. The position was a blessing for Maria too, who had not endured an easy life. As a physically and mentally handicapped unmarried woman in the 1920s, steady pay and reliable work was a golden ticket few people in her position got a hold of, so while it’s impossible she hadn’t heard the rumors, it’s even less likely that she could afford to turn the position down. After all, what were a few ghosts when the alternative was so much worse? So, she accepted the position, and on March 31st, 1922, her sister walked her to the farm, staying long enough to see her settled before heading out, saying goodbye.
The next day, morning broke over the quiet farm as usual, illuminating the fallen snow. Two traveling salesmen stopped by in an effort to sell their coffee, but left after receiving no response. The postman came and left, leaving the family’s mail behind.
On April second, the Sunday choir lamented the absence of Viktoria, known in the town as “the Lark,” for her beautiful voice. As the only Gruber who attended church, her presence was missed, but with the circumstances of the family being what they were, not much was thought of it.
On Monday the third, seven year old Cazilia failed to show up for school, triggering the town’s curiosity. Despite the family’s strangeness, Cazilia was a punctual student, and her absence was unusual. When a few neighbors went to investigate, the farm seemed fine- the animals were visibly well-tended, and smoke was coming from the chimney. Making the decision to leave well enough alone, they left their reclusive neighbors to their solitude. Later that evening, the postman returned only to find Saturday’s mail untouched.
Tuesday the 4th, an engine repair man arrived for a pre-scheduled job. He waited an hour for anyone to answer the door, greeted only by the barks of the family dog from the inside of the stone house. Deciding he’d waited long enough, the repairman managed to get himself into the engine shed and completed his job over the course of an hour. Having finished, he packed up and was about to leave when he noticed the family dog tied to a post outside by a barn, which had been closed since his arrival despite the seeming vacancy of the farm. Calling out, he tried to find whoever it was, but received no answer.
The coffee salesmen made a return that afternoon, visiting Lorenz Schlittenbauer, Viktoria’s paid-off ex. They mentioned to him that his neighbors hadn’t answered that morning either, asking whether or not the place was deserted. Word travels fast in a small town, and by that time Lorenz had already heard the repairman’s story. Deciding things had gone on for too long, he sent his two sons to the farm to check in and see what was happening. Returning, they told their father the same story everyone else had -- the farm appeared to be deserted. Gathering two more neighbors, Michael Poll and Jakob Sigl, he suggested they head over and get to the bottom of the Gruber’s disappearance.
Once at the farm, the three men first checked the farmhouse, finding it expectedly locked, as everyone else had said. And so, entering the barn, they walked through the feeding stalls, hoping to enter the main house through a door located within. As they walked, Lorenz stumbled over an old door beneath the hay, Michael Poll following suit. Looking down, Poll remarked that there appeared to be something beneath the door. Grabbing hold, Lorenz tugged at it, and the something became a someone, as Andeas’ corpse was pulled from the hay.
Lifting the door, Lorenz uncovered three more bodies, identified as the elder Cazilia, Viktoria, and 7 year old Cazilia. Not seeing Josef, Lorenz told the men to search the house in hopes that the baby might still be alive. Tragically, they found 2 year old Josph in his mother’s bedroom, bludgeoned while still in his crib, his body covered by one of his mother’s dresses.
The men continued to explore the house, and were surprised to find a sixth body, which would be later identified as Maria. She was discovered in the adjoined room, covered in bed clothes and lying in a pool of her own blood.
Investigation began immediately, but unfortunately was riddled with error and tempering. The bodies were autopsied within the barn, at which point the physician ruled the deaths as murders, and suggested the killing weapon might be a mattock, a common farming tool that’s a sort of cross between a pickaxe and a hammer, though none were found at the scene. Regardless, it was clear the family members had all died from blunt force trauma, and all showed signs of impact on the right side of the head. None of the victims had any defensive wounds, so either they didn’t see the killer coming, or for whatever reason, chose not to fight. Furthermore, not all of the wounds were similar in shape, suggesting the potential use of multiple tools. The killer also showed a flagrant disregard for conventional morality, as the children both appeared to have suffered the worst of the attacks. Post-mortem examination suggests that young Cazilia was the last to die, though all attacks took place sequentially. The physician found clumps of hair in her fists that she had been torn from her own head, and speculated that she had not only lived through her attack, but had remained alive for hours afterwards, unable to run or otherwise move, until she eventually died from her injuries.
And even with the small progress they were making, it seems like every answer opened up a dozen new questions. Five photos were taken at the crime scene, a still new practice at the time, in an effort to piece together a timeline of what exactly had occurred; two with the bodies in the barn, one of Maria in her chamber, one of Josef and his cradle in Viktoria's bedroom, and an outside view from the yard. It seemed apparent that all six people were killed one at a time, judging by the lack of defense wounds and systematic consistencies within the injuries, particularly of the four found in the barn. The distance between the barn and house was enough so that they would have been unable to hear any screams, which explains why the others may not have known to flee, but doesn’t explain what all of them were doing going to the barn separately. Both Andreas and young Cazilia were wearing their bedclothes, so it was late enough that the family members wouldn’t be attending to chores. It’s also entirely possible that the family members didn’t die where they were discovered, but were dragged there afterwards. But then why was younger Cazilia left alive after the killer attempted to move her body? And why leave Maria and Josef inside the house? There’s also no definitive evidence for what order they died in, although it’s theorized that, if the family was killed in the order they were found in, Viktoria Gabriel would be the first victim, followed by elder Cäzilia Gruber, Andreas Gruber, and then young Cäzilia. It’s closest to certain that Josef’s was the last murder, after Maria. This makes sense, as Maria’s murder doesn’t seem as premediated at the others, who were lured out of the home before being killed. It’s likely the killer didn’t know Maria would be there, as it was only her first day, and she’d only been in the home for all of a few hours before her untimely death.
Of course, that brings up another question; why cover the in-house bodies? As I stated earlier, young Josef was covered by his mother’s dress, and Maria was covered with a set of bedclothes. Sure, the bodies outside were covered by an old barn door and some hay, but that seems more like someone covering their tracks to buy time than a weird make-shift shroud. Or was the shrouding part of the ritualist way the killer undertook these murders? Was special reverence given to Maria and Josef as potential innocents, or did the killer simply not want to look at the bodies, and so covered them?
Over the course of the investigation, over 100 suspects were interviewed, though the culprit was never formally found. Most notable among the suspects was Lorenz, who many thought killed the family as an act of revenge, but he was eventually cleared by the primary investigator. From the beginning, law enforcement treated the crime as a robbery-homicide, despite the large quantities of money and valuables left in the house. Because the murders were not discovered for four days, the killer would have had ample time to collect everything and go. And yet, as testimony shows, one of the reasons it took awhile for everyone to notice something was awry was that the farm wasn’t treated as abandoned. Someone started fires in the chimneys. Someone tended to the livestock. And, as the investigation uncovered, someone had eaten up the bread and meat from the pantry. Whoever it was, they weren’t in any rush.
The hinterkaifeck farm was demolished in 1923, only a year after the murders took place. Upon its destruction, more clues were uncovered, not the least of which was the missing mattock and a bloody pen knife, hidden in the floorboards of the attic. The mattock found was actually handcrafted by Andreas, and explained some of the injuries, as he had hand fashioned it using bolts that matched some of the previously unaccountable injuries. The pen knife was suggested as the probable cause of visible lacerations on Cazilia the younger, though it has never been proved beyond speculation. Though law enforcement tested both weapons for fingerprints, none were found.
And this brings us back to our origin. Sure, ghost stories are terrifying, but even more so when context forces us out of the comfort of disbelief. Maybe the previous maid heard apparitions and ghostly noises from the attic, or maybe she heard Viktoria become a victim over and over again.
And maybe it was a poltergeist that delivered newspapers and stole house keys. Or maybe it had something to do with the story Andreas told a few weeks before the murders. In one of his rare sociable moments, he apparently told anyone who would listen about the strangest thing that had happened to him that day. Coming out that morning, he had found a set of footprints leading from the woods up to a door in the barn’s machine room, a door with a broken lock. Now, this might be nothing more than a curiosity if not for a simple fact. Pressed into the fallen snow was one singular set of tracks leading into the house, but none leading back out.
Maybe there were ghosts in the attic. Or maybe, the Gruber family fell fate to one of our most primal fears; after all, the only thing worse than being alone, is thinking you’re alone when you’re not.
Map’s End is written and recorded by Nicole Chevalier with music by Scare the Raven.
More about Scare the Raven can be found on our website Mapsendpodcast.com, or by emailing them at ScareTheRaven@Gmail.com.
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