Please be aware the stories, theories, re-enactments and language in this podcast are of an adult nature and can be disturbing, frightening and in some cases offensive. Listener Discretion is advised – there is very adult content ahead and you have been warned.

Welcome heathens welcome to the world of the weird and unexplained. I’m your host, Nicole Delacroix and together, we will be investigating stories about the weird, wonderful, unexplained, eerie, scary and down-right unbelievable. There will be tales of ghosts, murder, supernatural beings and unexplained mysteries. So, sit back, grab your favorite drink, relax and prepare to be transported to today's dark Enigma....

And on today’s Dark enigma we’re going to be exploring a story that was recommended to me by a local contact, and since we’ve never explored a Georgia story, I thought it was about time. But before we get to today’s story, we have a little business to conduct first. As always, we will be playing our drinking game but, again, the drinking game is only for those of us that are at home and have nowhere else to go tonight. Please remember to drink responsibly.

Since we’re going to be focused on Georgia, I thought we could make the drink of the day Peach Schnapps, or maybe some strawberry wine, but if you really want to get in the spirit you could do a little moonshine or even some Boone’s Farm wines, whichever, pick your poison… just don’t mix and match . Alright, now that we have the what, now for the how… is that right? Meh, who cares, you guys know what I mean… for the game part: every time I say Corpsewood that will be a single shot and every time I say Devil or any form thereof, that’s a double shot. Now that we have the business end out of the way we can jump headfirst into today’s dark enigma… and the Mystery of Corpsewood Manor.

Corpsewood Manor: Such a name seems ripped from the pages of a horror novel. Yet Corpsewood Manor is all-too-real, and in December of 1982, this hand built brick mansion in the woods of northern Georgia played host to a brutal double murder.

In 1976, on the occasion of his 50th birthday, Charles Scudder quit his job as a professor of pharmacology at Loyola University in Chicago to move with his two dogs and his long-time partner Joseph Odom to a 40-acre parcel of land the couple had purchased outside Summerville, Georgia.