It started with something small.

A cough, a headache, a restless night.

In homes across suburban Chicago, people reached for relief in something they trusted,

a red and white bottle in a medicine cabinet.

The kind you've opened a hundred times before.

The kind you don't even think about.

And they took one capsule, maybe two. And then they collapsed

without warning and without reason. And by the time investigators realized what was happening,

the damage was already done. And families were shattered and entire communities were on edge.

And behind it all was an invisible killer hiding in plain sight.

This wasn't a spree of gunshots or bloodstained crime scenes.

This was something even more terrifying, an unseen, silent, and lethal crime.

A crime that snuck its way into the heart of American consumer trust and shattered it overnight.

The story you're about to hear is about a nation

forced to confront a horrifying question. What if the danger isn't outside your house? What if the

danger isn't outside your door, but already inside your home? This is a story of the Tylenol

murders. Crime, conspiracy, cults, serial killers, and murder, all things that I love to consume.

And I know you do too.

You sick, twisted, intellectually beautiful mind, that person.

That one was for you.

And I have my trusted true crime buddy roopie doopy, scoopy, loopy, boopy, boopy.

He's sleeping.

...