Serial Killer Support Group by Saratoga Schaefer

In the hauntingly gripping debut novel “Serial Killer Support Group,” Saratoga Schaefer creates a psychological thriller that burrows deep beneath your skin and refuses to let go. This tale of revenge, identity, and moral ambiguity introduces us to Cyra Griffin, whose search for her sister’s killer leads her to infiltrate a support group for active serial killers. What follows is a darkly compelling journey that questions how far someone will go for justice—and at what cost to their humanity.

Schaefer masterfully crafts a protagonist whose emotional numbness becomes both her greatest weapon and deepest vulnerability. The resulting narrative is a chilling exploration of how easily the line between hunter and hunted can blur when vengeance becomes all-consuming.

Plot and Premise: A Dance with Darkness

The premise itself is wickedly inventive: after her sister Mira is murdered, Cyra Griffin infiltrates a secretive support group for serial killers by pretending to be one herself. Using information from a police records clerk, she discovers the group meets weekly in abandoned buildings around New York City. To gain access, she must present “proof” of her kills and pass a series of increasingly disturbing tests.

Schaefer doesn’t shy away from the moral implications of this setup. Cyra’s initial justified mission gradually twists into something far more disturbing as she adopts the persona of “Mistletoe” and begins to embody the very darkness she’s hunting. What begins as a quest for justice transforms into an unsettling character study of how proximity to evil can reshape identity.

The plot moves at a relentless pace, each twist revealing new layers of deception. The narrative structure—alternating between Cyra’s perspective and glimpses into the minds of the killers—creates a disorienting effect that mirrors Cyra’s own increasing detachment from reality. While some twists might be foreseeable for seasoned thriller readers, the psychological depth with which they’re executed keeps the stakes consistently high.

Character Development: The Making of Mistletoe

Cyra’s evolution forms the novel’s beating heart. From the opening pages where she adopts a cold demeanor to infiltrate the group to the final chilling scenes where she collects trophies from her own victims, her transformation is methodical and deeply unsettling.

What makes this character arc so effective is how Schaefer anchors it in Cyra’s history of emotional disconnection:

• Her childhood abandonment by her mother
• Her complicated relationship with her sister
• Her history of protecting Mira, sometimes through morally ambiguous means
• Her panic attacks and pattern of emotional numbness

The serial killers themselves are crafted with disturbing authenticity. Each member of the support group—from the eerily charismatic Lamprey to the unpredictable Sand Fly—feels fully realized rather than cardboard cut-out villains. Their distinctive signatures, histories, and psychologies create a nightmarish ensemble cast that constantly keeps readers guessing about their true motives.

Particularly effective is Lamprey, whose relationship with Cyra evolves into a twisted cat-and-mouse game that blurs the lines between manipulation, attraction, and predation. Their interactions crackle with tension, each conversation a minefield of half-truths and calculated performances.

Writing Style: Clinical Precision Meets Raw Emotion

Schaefer’s prose style perfectly complements the psychological horror at the novel’s core. Her writing is unflinching when describing violence but never gratuitous—instead focusing on the emotional aftermath and psychological impact. Consider this passage describing Cyra’s reaction after committing her first deliberate murder:

“The hand holding the rock was sticky and hot with blood. She walked over to the bridge and dropped the stone into the water below, the splash echoing through the quiet night. Her heart was pounding from the effort, and Cyra didn’t notice the stinging in her eyes until she returned to Eli’s body. The threat of tears was washed away with one deep breath. There was no sadness or regret. Those things were dead now, like Eli.”

The clinical detachment in these descriptions mirrors Cyra’s own psychological state, creating an unsettling intimacy between reader and protagonist. We’re not just witnessing her descent—we’re experiencing it through her increasingly distorted perspective.

Strengths and Standout Elements

The Psychological Depth:

1. The novel excels at exploring the dissociative mechanisms humans employ to survive trauma
2. Cyra’s gradual embrace of her Mistletoe persona feels organic rather than forced
3. The exploration of emotional numbness as both defense mechanism and gateway to amorality rings terrifyingly true

The Female Perspective:

• Unlike many thriller narratives centering male killers, Schaefer explores distinctly female experiences of violence and revenge
• The novel subtly examines the different standards society applies to male versus female violence
• Cyra’s queerness adds another layer to her outsider status without becoming her defining characteristic

Moral Complexity:

• No character, not even our protagonist, exists in clear moral territory
• The novel refuses easy judgments about right and wrong
• The ending avoids both redemptive clichés and simplistic condemnation

Room for Improvement

Despite its considerable strengths, “Serial Killer Support Group” isn’t without flaws. The premise requires a degree of suspension of disbelief—would real serial killers actually form a support group?—though Schaefer’s psychological acuity makes it just plausible enough to work.

The queer elements mentioned in the marketing materials feel somewhat understated in the actual narrative. While Cyra’s sexuality is clearly established through her relationship with her ex-girlfriend Bea, this aspect of her identity doesn’t significantly impact the main storyline.

Some readers might also find the conclusion morally troubling. Cyra’s final embrace of her killer identity raises uncomfortable questions about whether the novel ultimately condones vigilante justice. However, I’d argue this moral ambiguity is precisely the point—Schaefer isn’t interested in easy answers or conventional morality tales.

Final Verdict: A Chilling Debut That Lingers

“Serial Killer Support Group” announces Saratoga Schaefer as a formidable new voice in psychological thrillers. Her debut novel combines the psychological insight of Gillian Flynn with the moral complexity of Caroline Kepnes’s “You” series, while establishing a distinctly original perspective.

The novel will particularly appeal to fans of:

• Ottessa Moshfegh’s unsettling character studies
• Grady Hendrix’s “The Final Girl Support Group”
• Oyinkan Braithwaite’s “My Sister, the Serial Killer”
• Megan Abbott’s explorations of female aggression and darkness

At its core, this is a novel about identity—how we construct it, how trauma reshapes it, and how easily it can unravel when we immerse ourselves in darkness. Schaefer asks difficult questions about justice, revenge, and the monsters we might become while hunting monsters.

There’s a moment late in the novel when Cyra reflects on her transformation: “Perhaps she belonged in their group after all.” The true horror lies not in the graphic violence or disturbing psychological portraits, but in how understandable—even inevitable—Cyra’s descent feels by the end.

With sharp psychological insight, unflinching examination of trauma’s aftermath, and a protagonist whose moral descent feels disturbingly plausible, “Serial Killer Support Group” marks an impressive debut. Despite occasional plot conveniences and the need for some suspension of disbelief, Schaefer has crafted a thriller that will have readers questioning just how many steps separate them from the darkness that consumed Cyra.

In the end, the scariest monster might not be the obvious predators like Lamprey or Sand Fly, but the ordinary person who, under the right circumstances, discovers they’re capable of becoming just like them.