A mother’s phone in Kyiv rang at 5 a.m. on July 5, 2024. It was a message from her daughter, Anna Kobrynska, a photo with coordinates somewhere on the sunny coast of California and a cryptic phrase about transferring her assets. After that, there was only silence. Over 9,000 kilometers away, on the idyllic coast of San Diego, the 38-year-old Ukrainian woman had abandoned her car and her camper van to simply vanish into thin air.

Anna was no ordinary tourist. Born in Lviv, she had spent much of her adult life exploring the world, but the full-scale war in her homeland pushed her toward the United States. There, she found a nomadic home in a small camper van, traveling along the California coast. She didn’t have a conventional job; her life revolved around what she called “spiritual practices.” She read tarot cards, practiced Reiki healing, and offered advice about the future to a growing clientele.

From a young age, Anna felt a deep connection to the esoteric. Her school friends remembered how she claimed to see things others couldn’t, insisting she could predict tragic events. The invasion of Ukraine, she confided to her acquaintances, did not surprise her; she claimed to have foreseen it months before it happened in February 2022.

In the United States, Anna quickly found a welcoming community: a circle of enthusiasts of alternative spiritual practices. She frequented festivals and gatherings where theories about the end of the world, spiritual awakening, and the need to prepare for imminent cataclysms were discussed. Her visions and predictions made her a magnetic figure; some listened with devotion, others with skepticism, but no one was left indifferent.

However, in the months leading up to her disappearance, a shadow seemed to fall over her. She became more withdrawn, cutting off communication even with her closest confidants. Her social media transformed into a mosaic of unsettling messages. A few days before she vanished, she posted a photo of herself in a bikini with a disturbing caption: “Remember me like this.” In another, she posed with a gas mask and solar panels, commenting that she “knew her time was coming.” To most, these were just the eccentricities of a bohemian woman. No one suspected she was saying goodbye.

On the morning of July 4, everything seemed normal. She sent a message to her mother assuring her she was fine, enjoying nature. That evening, a photo of a sunset at La Jolla beach, without any text, was her last post. The next morning, a neighbor at the campsite noticed the door to her camper van was open. Inside, everything was in impeccable order: the bed was made, the dishes were washed, the keys were on the table next to her documents and money. It was as if she had just stepped out for a moment, with the full intention of returning.

When night fell and Anna did not come back, they called the police. A search revealed no signs of violence. On the table, a notebook with entries in Ukrainian lay open next to a spread of tarot cards and several crystals. The initial search was fruitless. Neither the dogs nor the Coast Guard helicopter found any trace of her. The investigation took a turn when her mother, from Kyiv, revealed the last message about the coordinates and assets. Had she planned her own disappearance? Her bank accounts were untouched, except for a $3,000 cash withdrawal a week earlier.

Detectives dove into her digital world. Her profiles were filled with apocalyptic predictions and conspiracy theories. She claimed that spirits warned her of coming catastrophes. A month earlier, she described a recurring nightmare: she was walking on a dark beach toward a light in the ocean while voices called to her from the water. For Anna, it was a sign from “higher powers.”

Testimonies from those who saw her last painted an alarming picture. The owner of a health food store said she had bought a large quantity of supplements to “purify her body before a major event.” An electronics store clerk remembered she had purchased a portable radio, asking about its range in the mountains. The strangest encounter was with a woman who saw her on the beach two days before she disappeared, sitting on a rock, talking to herself in an unknown language. When she approached, Anna told her in English, “I am preparing to meet those who have been waiting for me for a long time.”

Experts on cults suggested she might have fallen under the influence of an extremist group, the kind that believes in transitioning to another dimension. And then, a name, or rather, an alias, emerged: David Stone. Phone records showed frequent calls to an untraceable prepaid number, the last being a 47-minute conversation on the night of July 3.

This “David Stone” was a phantom-like figure in the San Diego spiritual community. He presented himself as a “Medium” capable of teaching people to travel to astral dimensions. Described as a man in his 50s with long gray hair and piercing blue eyes, Stone preached that the physical body was a prison for the soul. His appearance on the scene coincided with the last six months of Anna’s life, and he disappeared as soon as the police started asking questions.

Witnesses recounted the group’s last ritual, a week before the disappearance. Stone called it “preparation for the transition.” As participants meditated on leaving their bodies, only Anna claimed to have truly felt it. Afterward, Stone took her aside for a private conversation. Only fragments were overheard: “the chosen ones,” “the time has come,” “the final step.” As she left, Anna hugged several friends, telling them they would soon understand how right all her predictions had been.

The discovery of her journal in the camper was revealing. The entries, increasingly chaotic, spoke of a “portal” that would open on the night of the new moon, July 5. “I must be there at exactly midnight,” she wrote. “They have been waiting for me for many years.” One of the coordinates for her “places of power” led rescuers to the Torrey Pines cliffs. There, on a hard-to-reach ledge, they found a small altar made of stones. Nearby, a note in Ukrainian read: “Thank you for all the lessons of this world. I am going to those who call me home. Do not look for me among the living.”

The suicide theory gained traction but didn’t quite fit. Why not leave a clear note? Why not settle her affairs? And most importantly, where was her body?

The investigation stalled until a private detective, Michael Rodriguez, hired by Anna’s mother, discovered a terrifying pattern. In the last five years, four other solitary individuals, all into esotericism, had disappeared in California under identical circumstances. They all spoke of an impending “spiritual experience,” withdrew money, and left cryptic notes. In each case, a man matching David Stone’s description had been present. Rodriguez was convinced: they were dealing with a serial killer, whom he dubbed “The Spiritual Reaper.”

Three months after Anna’s disappearance, an anonymous call changed everything. The distorted voice gave the coordinates of an abandoned cabin in the San Bernardino Mountains. What the police found there was blood-chilling. Inside were the personal belongings of all five missing persons, including Anna’s passport. On the walls, their photos were hung with red crosses painted over their faces. An improvised altar held locks of hair from each victim.

On a table lay a notebook—the killer’s journal. In flawless handwriting, he described the process of “liberating souls,” detailing how he had convinced each person to voluntarily leave this life. Anna, he wrote, was the last, the most susceptible, the one who truly believed. The final entry, dated July 6, read: “Mission accomplished. Time to disappear.”

They also found video tapes. In Anna’s, she is seen happy, excited, talking about the “journey to the stars” while the man off-camera gives her final instructions. But David Stone remained a ghost. There was no DNA in the databases, no fingerprints, no records. He seemed to have evaporated.

Today, the case of Anna Kobrynska remains unsolved. Her body, like those of the other victims, was never found. Her story has become a tragic case study of how a psychopath’s charisma can manipulate the spiritual search of the vulnerable. Her camper van remains in a police impound lot, a silent monument to a woman who sought the secrets of the universe and instead found a monster who promised them to her, only to steal her life.