JUST IN: Christa Pike to Face the Electric Chair in 64 Days — Youngest Woman Sentenced To Death

It is therefore ordered that you shall be put to death by electrocution. [laughter]  The courtroom goes silent. No one speaks. No one moves. Then, laughter. Not nervous laughter. Not the kind that escapes when someone is overwhelmed. This was calm, almost amused. The woman who had just been sentenced to die was laughing.

 The judge paused, looked directly at her, and asked one final question. Do you have anything you would like to say? Her answer left the courtroom stunned. Can I play that song, Mama, before I go? That chilling exchange took place inside a Knox County courtroom in the year 1996. Now, nearly three decades later, Tennessee is preparing to carry out that sentence.

 The Tennessee Supreme Court has set an execution date for Christa Pike for the 1995 murder of Colleen Slemmer.  On September 30th, 2026, Christa Gail Pike is scheduled to be executed by electrocution at Riverbend Maximum Security Institution. She will be 50 years old. If the execution goes forward, she will become the first woman executed by the state of Tennessee in more than 200 years.

 But that is not what makes this case unforgettable. How did three people participate in one of the most brutal murders in Tennessee history, yet receive three completely different punishments? One is facing death. One could soon walk free. And one never spent a single night in prison. How can that happen? Welcome to Red Mark Files.

 If you enjoy deeply researched true crime documentaries that uncover the full story behind the headlines, subscribe and turn on notifications. Now, let’s uncover what really happened. Before we talk about what happened in those woods, you need to know who was lost there. Colleen Ann Slemmer was born on September 20th, 1975 in Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

 She grew up in Orange Park, Florida in a home filled with love. Her mother, May Martinez, and her stepfather gave Colleen the kind of childhood that most people hope for, stable, warm, and safe. And Colleen made the most of it. From the time she was 8 years old, she was drawn to helping disabled children. Nobody told her to. Nobody pushed her in that direction.

That was simply who she was. Someone who noticed people who needed help and walked toward them. Her mother described her as someone who ran marathons on weekends. Someone who roller skated every chance she got. Someone who, in Mae’s own words, was a computer geek at a time when loving computer actually meant something, when that interest pointed to a real and promising future.

That was exactly what Colleen was building, a future. She wanted to go to college. She had a clear goal. But college cost money the family did not have. So in September 1994, at 19 years old, Colleen made a practical decision. She enrolled in Job Corps, a federal program that offered young people vocational training and a way forward.

The Job Corps center closest to her home in Jacksonville did not offer computer training. So Colleen did what determined people do. She looked further. She found a center in Knoxville, Tennessee that had what she needed. Packed her bags and moved. She had been there for approximately 3 months when she was killed. 3 months.

 She had done nothing wrong, said nothing wrong. There was no argument, no confrontation, no bad blood. She simply existed in the same building as the wrong person. And 30 years later, Mae Martinez still does not have all of her daughter back. “She still lacks the one bone fragment,” Mae said, “that Krista Pike kept as a souvenir that night.

” To understand what happened on January 12th, 1995, you have to understand what happened long before that night. Krista Gail Pike was born prematurely on March 10th, 1976 in Beckley, West Virginia. From her very first days, life was already working against her. Her parents, Carissa Hansen and Emil Glenn Pike, had one of the most unstable relationships you can imagine.

 Married, divorced, remarried, divorced again. The home Krista grew up in was not a safe place. It was not even a stable one. Before Krista was born, her mother was drinking heavily. She kept drinking even after doctors told her that baby Krista was having severe seizures. Years later, when forensic neurologists examined Krista’s brain as part of her appeals, they found something that stopped them cold, an organic brain malformation.

Documented physical damage to the parts of the brain that control impulse and behavior. This was not a bad attitude. This was structural damage she was born with and never once received treatment for. Her early childhood was desperate. Relatives described baby Krista crawling across floors covered in dog feces with no adult stepping in to help her.

 Her father was largely absent and on at least one documented occasion, he whipped her with a leather strap five or six times in a single day. Court filings later submitted to the United States Supreme Court stated that by the time Krista was 18 years old, she had been raped at least twice and physically abused by at least seven different people.

 There are indications that the sexual abuse began as early as age two. The one person who made Krista feel loved was her paternal grandmother. When her grandmother died in 1988, Krista was 12 years old. She attempted killing herself shortly after. She received almost no meaningful support. Her teenage years were chaos. Her mother introduced her to marijuana.

 She ran away from home as often as once a month. She changed schools 12 times. At 15, she was caught stealing food while on the run and sent to a juvenile facility. It was inside that facility that she first heard about Job Corps. In late 1994, Krista enrolled at the Knoxville Job Corps Center on Dale Avenue.

 She arrived carrying a lifetime of unaddressed trauma, undiagnosed mental illness, and documented neurological damage. Not one authority had ever meaningfully stepped in. What she found at Job Corps was not stability. It was the person who would help her turn years of darkness into a single night of horror.

 At the Knoxville Job Corps Center, Krista met Tadderal Ship, 17 years old, from Memphis, Tennessee. He had dropped out of high school, had ties to gang activity, and arrived at Job Corps at his mother’s urging to study culinary arts. Krista and Ship became inseparable almost immediately. Their relationship was intense and dark from the beginning.

Together they immersed themselves in occult imagery, devil worship, and satanic ritual. Ship kept a small shrine in his dorm room. His name for Krista was his little devil. He later testified that Krista had frequent, violent mood swings, rages that came without warning and without reason.

 The third person in their circle was Shadolla Peterson, 18 years old, from Cleveland, Tennessee. She was close to both of them and moved through their world without question. Then Krista’s attention landed on Colleen. At some point in the fall of 1994, Krista convinced herself that Colleen Slemmer was pursuing her boyfriend.

 There was no evidence of this. Not a single person who knew Colleen supported the idea. The jealousy was entirely in Krista’s mind, but in Krista’s mind, it was very real. Over the following weeks, the fixation grew. Krista spoke about Colleen with increasing hostility to both Ship and Peterson. Days before the murder, she told Ship directly that Colleen needed to be taught a lesson.

 The plan was beginning to take shape. Then came January 11th, 1995, the day before Colleen was killed. Krista pulled a fellow student, Kim Eloilo, aside and told her plainly and calmly that she was going to kill Colleen Slemmer. Kim asked why. Krista’s answer was four words, “I just felt mean today.” Kim said nothing. She told herself it was just talk.

 She walked away. Kim Eloilo heard those words the day before Colleen died. What she did next, or rather what she did not do, is something she will carry for the rest of her life. This was not a fight that got out of hand. Court records confirm this was a plan. Three people were involved. Christa Gail Pike, 18 years old, was the primary actor.

Tadderal Ship, 17 years old, was her accomplice. Shonda La Peterson, 18 years old, was there to stand watch. Each one had a role. Each one knew what the night was for. On the evening of January 12th, 1995, before Christa left the dormitory, she made two deliberate decisions. She pocketed a box cutter.

 She borrowed a small meat cleaver. Court records confirm both weapons were brought intentionally. She did not pick them up along the way. She selected them before she walked out the door. Then she went to find Colleen. Her approach was simple. She told Colleen she wanted to make peace. She offered marijuana as a show of goodwill.

 Colleen had no reason to be suspicious. She agreed and went along. All four, Christa, Ship, Peterson, and Colleen, signed out of the dormitory log together that evening. Their names, the time, all recorded. Court records confirm the route was not accidental. They walked from Dale Avenue, through the Cumberland Avenue strip, past Tyson Park, and along a dark greenway path that led onto the University of Tennessee Agricultural Campus.

 Remote, wooded, no streetlights, no witnesses, nowhere to run. At approximately 8:00 that evening, Kim Illoilo watched all four of them disappear into the darkness in the direction of 17th Street. She did not call anyone. 8:00 in the evening, January 12th, 1995. Kim Illoilo watches four people walk out into the dark. She goes back inside.

 She says nothing to no one. Approximately 8:15 to 8:30 in the evening, the four of them reach the agricultural campus of the University of Tennessee. It is dark. It is isolated. There is no one around. That is when Christa turns on Colleen. The first blow is a knee driven hard into Colleen’s face, then fists.

 Christa slams Colleen’s head against her knee over and over. She kicks her in the face and torso. She drives Colleen’s head down into the ground. Ship holds Colleen down. He strikes her with a rock. Peterson stands at a distance and watches. Then the box cutter comes out. Court records document six separate incisions to Colleen’s throat. Six.

There are also deep slashes across her stomach and her back. Then Christa picks up the small meat cleaver and opens the wounds further. Colleen is still alive. Christa then carves a pentagram into Colleen’s chest. Court records confirm she also carved one into her forehead. Colleen is still talking.

 She is begging them to stop. She is pleading for her life with whatever breath she has left. In her own taped confession to the Knoxville Police Department, Christa said, “She wouldn’t shut up. She kept talking and talking. I didn’t want to hear her talking. So she kept cutting.” Court records state that the more Colleen talked, the more Christa cut her.

 The more Colleen begged, the harder Christa kicked. Colleen still would not die. Christa reached down and picked up a large chunk of asphalt from the ground. She brought it down on Colleen’s skull. Then again. Then again. The skull fractured in at least four places. Bone fragments were driven directly into Colleen’s brain.

 That is what finally killed her. But Christa was not finished. She reached into the open wound in Colleen’s skull. She pulled out a piece of bone with her bare hand. She slipped it into her jacket pocket and walked away. Kim Illoilo is near the entrance when she sees three people walk back through the door. Colleen Slemmer is not with them.

 That same night, Christa walks to Kim’s room. She tells Kim she just killed Colleen. Then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the skull fragment and holds it up. She describes the six cuts to the throat, the pentagram, the asphalt, every detail. She is not shaking. She is not crying. She is not afraid. She is bragging.

 8:05 in the morning, January 13th, 1995, a University of Tennessee groundskeeper is moving through the agricultural campus near the greenhouses. He spots something at the edge of the tree line, half-buried in debris. His first thought, a dead animal. He moves closer. He sees clothing. He sees an exposed breast. He understands. He calls the police.

Knoxville Police Department arrives to find Colleen Slemmer face down in the dirt, nude from the waist up, jeans still on, clothing scattered around her. A pool of blood sits 30 ft from her body. The medical examiner catalogs massive skull fractures, six throat lacerations, a pentagram carved into her chest and forehead, and extensive slash wounds across her body.

 What investigators would find in a jacket pocket 2 days later would become the most chilling piece of evidence in Knox County history. Christa walked back into that dormitory and did not miss a beat. Within hours of returning, she was not hiding. She was not quiet. She was showing the skull fragment to multiple students, not just Kim Loylo.

 She described what had happened in the woods in detail to more than one person. Court testimony from multiple witnesses would later confirm this. No distress, no fear, no remorse, not even the instinct to be careful. The prosecution would later use her behavior that night as central evidence of her character, and it is not hard to understand why.

 2 days later, January 14th, 1995, Christa and Ship were spotted on campus wearing pentagram necklaces. Colleen’s body had just been found the morning before. Meanwhile, investigators were already moving. The dormitory log had told them everything they needed. Four names signed out, three names signed back in with precise timestamps attached.

 When investigators approached Shadola Peterson, she began cooperating immediately. Krista made no attempt to flee, no attempt to hide, no attempt to explain herself. She appeared, by every account, genuinely unconcerned. In Florida, May Martinez had not yet been told her daughter was dead. She would not know until police contacted her.

 30 years later, May still does not have all of Colleen’s remains. The skull fragment remains in state custody. The case is still open. It cannot be released. The investigation moved fast because the evidence made it easy. Lead investigator Detective Randy York of the Knoxville Police Department did not have to search far for a starting point.

 The dormitory log handed it to him. Four students signed out together on the evening of January 12th, 1995. Only three signed back in. The timestamps were precise. The names were clear. On January 14th, 1995, Krista was brought in for questioning. She waived her Miranda rights without hesitation and gave a full taped confession.

 She described the walk from Dale Avenue. She described the location. She described the attack. Her explanation, “We only meant to scare her. It got out of control.” The physical evidence told a completely different story. Court records confirmed that Colleen’s DNA was found on both Krista’s and Ship’s clothing. The skull fragment was recovered from Krista’s jacket pocket, exactly where she had placed it the night before.

 Peterson cooperated fully, providing investigators with a first-hand account of everything that happened in those woods. Ship gave his own statement to Detective York. His words were direct. Colleen Slemmer had been a sacrifice to Satan. All three, Krista, Ship, and Peterson, were charged with first-degree murder and conspiracy to commit first-degree murder.

 Ship was tried as an adult despite being 17 at the time of the crime. Peterson accepted a deal, accessory after the fact, 6 years of probation. She walked out of court on the day she was sentenced without serving a single hour in prison. There was no dramatic breakthrough in this case, no secret informant, no surveillance footage, no last-minute confession from a reluctant witness.

 The case came together because Krista built it herself with her own words, her own actions, and her own trophy. Here is how the evidence stacked up piece by piece. The dormitory log established exactly who left, who came back, and when. The taped confession gave investigators the crime in Krista’s own voice.

 The skull fragment recovered from her jacket pocket proved she had done exactly what she confessed to and that she had chosen to keep a piece of it. Kim Illoilo’s testimony established that the murder was planned at least 1 day in advance and confirmed Krista’s behavior after she returned to the dormitory. Peterson’s full cooperation gave investigators a first-hand eyewitness account of the attack itself.

 DNA evidence placed both Krista and Ship at the scene with Colleen’s blood on their clothing. And Ship’s own statement that Colleen Slemmer had been a sacrifice to Satan gave the prosecution the ideological frame that would follow this case all the way through trial. All three were formally arrested within 36 hours of the murder.

 Krista was arrested on January 14th, 1995, 2 days after Colleen was killed. She was 18 years old. She had a skull fragment in her pocket. She had already told multiple people what she had done. The case that followed would be one of the most open and shut in Knox County history and one of the most haunting. Knox County Criminal Court, March 1996.

Krista Gail Pike sat at the defendant’s table while Assistant District Attorneys William H. Crabtree and Sally J. Helm laid out the state’s case piece by piece. The evidence was overwhelming. The taped confession, the skull fragment, the dormitory logs, the DNA, Kim Ilolios testimony placing the premeditation the day before the murder and describing Krista’s behavior after she returned.

 And Peterson’s first-hand account of everything that happened in those woods. The defense called psychologist Dr. Eric Engum who had diagnosed Krista with severe borderline personality disorder. His argument was that she had acted from a loss of control, not from deliberate planning. The jury heard everything. They deliberated for 2 and 1/2 hours.

 On March 22nd, 1996, they returned a verdict of guilty on both counts. Premeditated first-degree murder and conspiracy to commit first-degree murder. During the penalty phase, the jury found two aggravating factors. First, the murder was especially heinous, atrocious, and cruel involving torture and serious physical abuse beyond what was necessary to cause death.

 Second, the murder was committed to avoid or prevent lawful arrest or prosecution. On March 30th, 1996, Judge Mary Beth Leibowitz sentenced Christa Gail Pike to death by electrocution plus an additional 25 years for the conspiracy charge. Krista was 20 years old. She was the youngest woman sentenced to death in the United States at that time.

 And when the judge finished reading the sentence, Krista laughed. Then she asked if she could play the song Mama before she went. Tatro Ship’s trial followed in January 1997. He was convicted of first-degree murder on both counts. But because he was 17 at the time of the crime, he could not be sentenced to death.

 The jury could not unanimously agree on life without parole. The judge sentenced him to life with parole eligibility plus a consecutive 25 years for conspiracy. His parole eligibility date, December 8th, 2026. The same year Krista is scheduled to die. Shadola Peterson pleaded guilty to accessory after the fact. She received six years of probation.

 She walked out of court and went home. That was the last time the justice system had any meaningful contact with Shondola Peterson. One night, one victim, three defendants, one death sentence, one life with parole, one probation, same woods, same crime. After sentencing, Christa was transferred to the Deborah K. Johnson Rehabilitation Center in Nashville, the only woman on Tennessee’s death row.

 For nearly 30 years, she lived in a cell barely bigger than a parking space. Near zero meaningful human contact. Not as a disciplinary measure, simply because of her gender and her sentence. There was no one else like her in that building. She did not stay quiet. On August 24th, 2001, Christa attacked fellow inmate Patricia Jones with a shoestring, nearly strangling her to death.

 In recorded phone calls to her mother afterward, Christa laughed about it. Her words, “I bet if she gets near me, I’m going to do it again.” In 2004, she was convicted of attempted first-degree murder. Another 25 years added to her sentence. In 2002, she asked to drop her appeals and requested execution by electrocution.

 A date was set, August 19th, 2002. She changed her mind. Her lawyers intervened. The execution was halted. In 2012, authorities uncovered an escape plot involving New Jersey man Donald Kohut and Corrections Officer Justin Heflin. The plot was dismantled by a joint investigation before it went any further.

 In 2019, the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals unanimously denied her final federal appeal. Every standard legal avenue was now exhausted. In September 24, after civil litigation over her living conditions, Christa reached a settlement. Limited work privileges, shared meals, more time outside her cell. She was 48 years old.

 It had taken 28 years. On September 30th, 2025, the Tennessee Supreme Court signed her death warrant. Execution date, September 30th, 2026. Riverbend Maximum Security Institution, Nashville. But, her lawyers were not done. In early 2026, they filed a lawsuit challenging Tennessee’s single drug pentobarbital execution protocol on three grounds. First, medical risk.

Christa has a blood clotting disorder and small difficult veins. Her medical expert, Dr. Joel Zivot, warned that pentobarbital could cause her lungs to fill with fluid, effectively drowning her during the execution. Second, constitutional grounds. Forcing a prisoner to choose their own method of execution after 25-plus years of isolation violates the 8th Amendment.

Third, religious freedom. Christa has converted to Buddhism. Her spiritual advisor would be barred from the chamber, and a 12-hour blackout period would cut her off from any spiritual contact. Restrictions that were not applied to three Christian prisoners executed in 2025. Then, on May 21st, 2026, came the execution of Tony Carruthers at Riverbend.

 Staff punctured him more than a dozen times in his arms, hands, feet, neck, and chest over more than an hour trying to secure an intravenous line. The governor issued a reprieve before the execution could proceed. It was exactly the scenario Christa’s lawyers had described in writing 4 months earlier. Her challenge has since been transferred directly to the Tennessee Supreme Court, the same court that signed her death warrant.

 As of the recording of this video, a decision is still pending. Taterel Shipp was denied parole in October 25. His next review is scheduled for October 2031. His technical parole eligibility date remains December 8th, 2026, the same year Christa is set to die. May Martinez has said she intends to be in that room when the execution happens.

 30 years later, she still does not have all of her daughter’s remains. September 30th, 2026, Riverbend Maximum Security Institution, Nashville, Tennessee. The Tennessee Supreme Court is still deciding. If the execution goes forward, Christa Gail Pike will be the first woman executed in Tennessee in over 200 years and the only person put to death in this state for a crime committed at age 18 in the modern era.

 Colleen Ann Slemmer was born on September 20th, 1975. She ran marathons. She roller skated on weekends. She loved computers. She wanted to help disabled children. She had been in Knoxville for 3 months. One bone fragment, still in state custody, still not returned to her mother. Christa laughed when the judge sentenced her to death. She is now 50 years old.

The court is deciding. What moment in this case hit you hardest? The dorm log, the trophy, or the sentencing disparity? Tell me in the comments. Subscribe because when September 30th arrives, we will be here.