Alright y’all, this week we're taking it to the other side of the pond—South London, 1986. Seems like America ain't the only place were sickos have a preference for shenanigans of the sexual nature against senior citizens . Our Melanin Mayhem maker had the people shook because somebody’s dusty ass grandson was out here creeping through windows and snatching souls and booty holes like a bedtime Grim Reaper.

No alarms. No witnesses. Just silence, slippers, stiff bodies and semen stains in the morning. This audacious ass mf was in it for the thrill of the kill and to rob the victims of their dignity and a few coins. This diabolical raping, killing, sadistic criminal was pure darkness—but it wouldn't be long before all his crimes came to light.

Noir Nation, this week I bring you the story of Kenneth Erskine AKA the Stockwell Strangler.