After a century of chaos, Colombia began to rise economically and politically. This country, which was a hotbed of conflict in Latin America, is now experiencing progress, and its citizens feel a cautious hope—a hope that will save them from the monster of those conflicts, which they thought might never end.
Although Colombia is no longer at the forefront of the world's cocaine-exporting countries or warring armed groups as it was two decades ago, it still tops the list of the world's most vicious and criminal serial killers. For example, Luis Garavito, who raped and killed 193 boys, or his Colombian compatriot, Pedro Lopez, known as the "Monster of the Andes", with 110 murders of young men. In fifth place is their fellow Colombian, Daniel Camargo Barbosa, who raped and killed 72 people before he was arrested.
These deranged killers took advantage of the loose security situation in Colombia and its surrounding poor countries, targeting the poor victims of war. They have become a sign of the horrors that wars, drugs, and weapons can produce.
But our story from Colombia today is a little different. Although many serial killers in this country have been arrested and imprisoned, there is one who got away with it and has not been caught. In fact, corruption and chaos caused his trail to be lost. So, what is the story of the Colombian Monster of the Ruins?
Everything happened between the 1960s and 1970s, specifically in the city of Valle del Cauca, Colombia. It all began with the discovery of a newspaper delivery boy's body on November 5, 1963. After that, more cases of murdered young boys started to emerge, with the bodies dumped in ruins far from the city centre, hence the killer's name.
On December 4 of the same year, another child was found in a grassy area in the northern part of the city, marking the second recorded murder. Eight days later, a third body, missing its eyeballs, was discovered on the banks of the Aguacatal River. Later, two more bodies were found before the end of the year, left in the ruins.
By the end of the year, five murders had been recorded between November and December, all identical in their brutality. In January 1964, the Cali police found the stiff body of another child. Two days later, they discovered the remains of 12-year-old Alberto Garzon. Three more bodies were found that month in different parts of the town. Between February and April, three more murders occurred in various parts of the city, and the bodies were again dumped in the ruins.
After this surge, the discovery of bodies slowed down for a while. However, reports of missing poor children who worked on the streets to support their families did not stop. At that time, the state was weak and preoccupied with ongoing political violence, so it did not pay much attention to this terrifying series of crimes, which would continue. Instead, it issued a strange notice, confirming what would become the most bizarre aspect of the case. The Bogotá morgue asserted that the children whose bodies were discovered after long periods of disappearance had been buried and then exhumed. This notice would spark numerous strange stories over the ensuing decades.
Why would the killer bury his victims, only to dig them up later and leave them in the ruins?
The strangeness of this story does not end there. Police reports on the bodies revealed unimaginable details of their abuse. The children had been raped, and a long needle had been inserted into their hearts, not causing death but inducing violent convulsions in sensitive areas of their bodies—a tactic employed by the criminal to satisfy his diabolical desires.
Furthermore, a large amount of blood had been drawn from the children through injections, which was considered the primary cause of death.
That year, citizens let their imaginations run wild about the criminal who was killing their children. The first legend spoke of a group of people, allegedly under the orders of a businessman suffering from a blood disease. Dressed in black, they would ride in a car at night, approaching children on the streets and offering them money or gifts to lure them in.
There was also talk of a cult with deviations and sadistic practices. Naturally, no arrests were made against this mysterious group. Then, in March 1967, there was mention of a prisoner who was classified as the "monster", but the state did not disclose any further information, and the crimes continued anyway.
The bodies started appearing in the ruins again, beginning with the corpse of 8-year-old Felix Vanegas. His family identified him by marks on his right hand and left foot. This young boy had helped his mother with household chores on a farm in the rural area of this city, in southern Valle del Cauca. Ironically, during his disappearance, his mother received anonymous calls in 1964 assuring her that the child was fine and directing her to an address in the city. When they arrived, there was nothing there.
The calls persisted, and the last one the boy's relatives received was from a woman saying they would never see him again before hanging up. Five days later, the authorities discovered the body of another infant. The tenth child murder did not take long to occur, happening on January 27, 1964. By April 1 of that year, about 13 minors had lost their lives.
The authorities found the body of another boy named Alvero Santana and that of Fabio Balta Medina, who was 10 years old when he disappeared. The last time he was seen, he was shining a man's shoes in a public park in the middle of Cali. His family was extremely poor, and he studied at a public school, but he worked shining shoes to help with the household expenses.
More disappearances followed in the 1970s, such as that of 10-year-old Adagriela Ramirez, who had speech and hearing impairments. He disappeared in May 1974 when he was sent to get some things.
After that year, the reports of disappearances and bodies stopped surfacing in this city. But the terrifying legend remained present for Colombians, and the toll of a decade of crimes was grim: 38 bodies of young boys who had been raped, tortured, and had their blood drawn.
The Colombian public also did not shy away from tarnishing the reputation of one of the city's wealthy men, Don Adolfo Aristizabal, the owner of a hotel called "Aristi" that still stands today. They accused him based on his pallor, air of mystery, and blood disease, but there was no evidence. With his death in the 1960s and the continuation of the crimes thereafter, people realised their mistake.
Don Adolfo Aristizabal: Was he the Monster of the Ruins?
Perhaps for this reason, the rich man Don Adolfo Aristizabal became a saint to the poor, with people still visiting his grave and offering gifts, seeking atonement for tarnishing his name.
In 1982, a Colombian horror film inspired by the story was released, titled "Pure Blood" and directed by Luis Ospina. The film focused on the accusation against businessman Adolfo Aristizabal and the theory that he recruited a group of sadistic killers to kidnap poor children and draw their blood to treat his leukaemia.
