A Brief Photo Tour Of Our Nation's Most Notorious Murder Shacks

The Old Mackinaw Place

Owner: Timothy "Timmy" Mackinaw, aka Timmy the Terror, aka Tiny Tim, aka The Sarasota Slayer, aka Ms. Shirley Kleinbaum, aka That Guy Over There Who's Petting A Hunting Knife Like It Was A Kitten

Located deep in the Floridian swamps, The Old Mackinaw Place has been the site of a dozen horrible murders, several brutal assaults, a few money laundering scams, a couple of instances of loitering, and at least one attempt to sell fraudulent passports to a group of Belgians. The walls are stained with what one assumes is blood, given the history of the place, but no... it's ketchup. Timmy Mackinaw was a very, very messy eater (he only had four fingers and of the four, only two of them were "the good 'uns"). Ranch dressing stains, too, abound. There are deep gouges in the floor (from the blade of an ax), scratches on the ceiling (there was an incident with a squirrel), and on the back porch, there's a lovely mural of Mama Mackinaw dressed for some reason as the Phillie Phanatic, done entirely in spray paint and old bits of gum. It's a horrible place, for sure, but it does have satellite TV.

Abandoned Shack Out Behind The City Dump

Owner: Moss Khroner, aka The Mengle of the West, aka The Dahmer of the East, aka Leatherface, But For Real, aka The Finest Shemp Howard Impersonator In America

Ever seen a jar full of human faces? Well this shack, found behind a city dump located south of Silver Springs, CO, has several. In fact, there's a lot of jars filled with a lot of different things, all of them grotesque beyond comprehension. To be fair, there are also some of the most lovely blackberry preserves you've ever tasted. But mostly it's just jars of feet and scrotums and stuff. Furthermore, it appears that Mr. Khroner was running some sort of a ramshackle taxidermy business out of said shack, or at least it's clear that he killed and stuffed a whole bunch of stray cats. Whether he was doing so for money is, I suppose, anyone's guess. It should also be pointed out that the smell of the dump permeates everything, so you won't really notice the stench of the rotting human remains that are (sort of) buried under the floor boards.

Death House (Formerly The Class of 1999's Secret Hang-out Spot)

Owner: Currently owned by the Travis County sheriff's department. Formerly occupied by a loose collective of hobo squatters that didn't much appreciate a group of high school kids encroaching on their territory.

Someone, at some point, rigged up a tape recorder to automatically play the Travis County High School's alma mater whenever the door is opened. It's eerie, but no more so than the heap of rib cages found blacked and covered in teethmarks in a fire pit located in the shack's northwest corner. Why the sheriff's department hasn't cleaned these up is a mystery, though less of one when you consider that the sheriff and his deputies have been missing for months and are currently being impersonated by a loose collective of hobos that stole their uniforms after "having some BBQ." There are rumors that the "Death House" is haunted by the souls of all the assorted high school students and law enforcement officials that have lost their lives within it's walls. The rumors are true. It's fucking terrifying in there.

The Tool Shed

Owner: Dr. Harry Brentlinger, of the Massapequa Brentlingers.

Not a murder shack in the traditional sense, but it is the place where a young Melvin Brentlinger, who's only desire in life was to grow up and be the greatest male ballet dancer of his generation, would go to cry his eyes out when informed that he would be focusing exclusively on his studies all through junior high and high school, that he WOULD WITHOUT QUESTION be attending medical school at Yale, and that he would then be joining his father's practice post-graduation. No acts of violence were committed here, but as far as the death of a child's dream is concerned, it's worse than Darfur.

The Portal To Hell

Owner: Um... Satan, I guess.

An actual portal to Hell. Do not enter, lest ye be damned for all eternity. Like, don't even pop in real quick to use the bathroom. They're not fucking around with that "damned for all eternity" thing. They mean BUSINESS in Hell.