Shocking Halloween Horror: Former Fox Anchor Accused of Stabbing Elderly Mother to Death in Apparent Act of Self-Defense

In a chilling twist that has left a quiet suburban neighborhood reeling, Angelynn “Angie” Mock, a 47-year-old former television news anchor once celebrated for her poised on-air presence, stands accused of the brutal stabbing death of her 80-year-old mother, Anita Avers. The grisly incident unfolded on Halloween morning, October 31, 2025, in the heart of Wichita, Kansas, transforming a day of costumes and candy into one of unimaginable tragedy. Police bodycam footage, now circulating widely online, captures the blood-soaked aftermath, prompting widespread outrage and a flood of social media condemnation branding Mock a “heartless monster.”

The nightmare began shortly before 8 a.m. in the 1400 block of North Webb Road, a tree-lined street where jack-o’-lanterns still flickered on porches as trick-or-treaters prepared for the evening’s festivities. Sedgwick County Sheriff’s deputies responded to a frantic 911 call from Mock herself, who reportedly whispered into the phone, “I stabbed my mother to save myself.” Dispatch recordings, obtained by local outlet KAKE News, reveal a voice trembling with desperation: “She’s trying to hurt me… I had to do it.” The call, lasting less than two minutes, set off a rapid response from law enforcement.

Upon arrival at the modest single-story home shared by mother and daughter, deputies found Mock standing motionless on the dew-kissed lawn, her nightgown and hands drenched in crimson. Neighbors later described the scene as “straight out of a horror movie.” Alyssa Castro, a 32-year-old mother of two who lives two doors down, recounted the heart-stopping moment she and her boyfriend encountered Mock while loading their SUV for a morning errand. “There was this woman who approached our vehicle with blood—like her hands were filled, her body was filled with blood—asking to call 911,” Castro told reporters, her voice cracking. “She looked wild-eyed, like she’d seen a ghost. She grabbed my boyfriend’s phone and bolted back inside the house.” Castro’s account, corroborated by police reports, paints a picture of sheer panic, with Mock’s bare feet leaving bloody footprints across the driveway.

Rushing into the residence, officers discovered Avers unresponsive in her upstairs bedroom, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood. The elderly woman, a respected marriage and family therapist at Wichita Counseling Professionals, lay in her bed amid tangled sheets, her body bearing multiple stab wounds to the torso and neck. Paramedics pronounced her dead at Via Christi Hospital St. Francis, just minutes after arrival. An autopsy, conducted the following day by the Sedgwick County Forensic Science Center, confirmed the cause of death as exsanguination from sharp-force trauma, with at least seven deep lacerations noted. No defensive wounds were immediately apparent on Avers, though investigators emphasized that a full forensic analysis is ongoing.

Mock, sporting defensive cuts on her palms and forearms—likely from grappling with the knife— was swiftly handcuffed and transported to the same hospital for treatment. Medical staff described her injuries as superficial but consistent with a violent struggle. Cleared by physicians within hours, she was booked into Sedgwick County Jail on a first-degree murder charge. Her bond was set at $1 million during a brief arraignment on November 1, where she appeared via video link, her face pale and expressionless under the fluorescent lights. Prosecutors from the Sedgwick County District Attorney’s Office, led by veteran Marc Bennett, have vowed a swift trial, citing the premeditated nature of the attack. “This was no accident,” Bennett stated in a press conference. “The evidence points to a deliberate and savage assault on a vulnerable woman in her own home.”

The motive remains shrouded in mystery, fueling rampant speculation across national media and social platforms. Mock’s chilling self-defense claim has ignited fierce debate: Was this a desperate act born of long-simmering familial tension, or a fabricated narrative to mask cold-blooded intent? Court documents unsealed on November 3 reveal no prior police calls to the residence, but friends and colleagues whisper of underlying strains. Avers, widowed since 2018, had invited her daughter to live with her six months prior, ostensibly to provide support amid Mock’s recent job transitions. “Anita was the rock of our community,” said colleague Dr. Elena Ramirez, Avers’ longtime partner at the counseling firm. “She helped countless families mend their bonds. To think her own…” Ramirez trailed off, tears welling.

Public reaction has been visceral and unforgiving. The bodycam video, released by the Sheriff’s Office on November 2 to promote transparency, shows deputies navigating the blood-smeared hallway, their flashlights cutting through the dimness like knives. One officer’s voice cracks over the audio: “Ma’am, stay with us—where’s the weapon?” Mock’s response, barely audible: “In the kitchen sink.” The footage, viewed over 5 million times on X (formerly Twitter), has elicited a torrent of vitriol. “From anchor desk to murder scene—heartless monster,” tweeted user @TrueCrimeFan87, echoing sentiments from thousands. Hashtags like #AngieMockMurder and #HalloweenHorror trend globally, with true-crime podcasters already dissecting the case. Yet, a vocal minority urges caution, citing Mock’s history of mental health advocacy in her reporting days. “Self-defense isn’t always black and white,” posted @JusticeForAllKS.

To understand the woman at the center of this maelstrom, one must rewind to Mock’s glittering broadcast career. Born in Lincoln, Nebraska, in 1978, Angelynn Mock was a natural storyteller, her sharp wit and Midwestern charm propelling her through the cutthroat world of local news. She graduated magna cum laude from St. Cloud State University in 2000 with a degree in Mass Communications and Television Broadcasting, diving headfirst into sports reporting at ABC affiliate KLKN-TV in Lincoln. By 2002, she had climbed to KAAL-TV in Rochester, Minnesota, covering everything from high school football to NCAA scandals.

Her big break came in 2004 at KECI-TV in Missoula, Montana, where she anchored weekend sports amid rugged Rockies backdrops. Relocating to Oklahoma City in 2007, Mock joined KOKH FOX 25 as a general assignment reporter, honing her skills on breaking stories like tornado outbreaks and political exposés. It was in St. Louis, however, from 2011 to 2015, that she truly shone as a morning and evening fill-in anchor at KTVI FOX 2. Viewers adored her empathetic delivery—whether reporting on school shootings or community fundraisers—and her on-air chemistry with co-hosts earned her a loyal following. “Angie had this way of making you feel seen,” recalled former producer Tim Hargrove. “She was the voice of reason in chaos.”

But the spotlight dimmed after 2015. Burnout, coupled with a desire for stability, prompted Mock to pivot to sales. Her LinkedIn profile chronicles the shift: “Veteran Broadcast Journalist with 12 years experience… Transitioned into sales because of the many similarities the two positions encompass.” She joined CrossChx as an account manager, peddling background-check software, before landing at Imaging Office Systems in Wichita—a data management firm where she cold-called clients until August 2025. The move east coincided with Avers’ invitation, a gesture of maternal love that now haunts the family. Avers herself was a pillar: Married for 52 years to the late Robert Avers, a retired engineer, she poured her soul into therapy, specializing in elder care and trauma recovery. Her Facebook profile, frozen in time, features a beaming photo of Mock in the field, captioned “Proud of my girl.”

As Mock awaits her next court date on December 15, whispers of a plea deal swirl. Her public defender, Sarah Kline, has filed for a mental health evaluation, hinting at possible diminished capacity defenses. Forensic psychologists speculate on factors like elder abuse reversal or undiagnosed conditions—Avers’ therapy practice ironically positioned her to spot such red flags in others. Meanwhile, the Avers family, including two siblings from Avers’ first marriage, mourns in seclusion. A candlelit vigil drew over 200 on November 3, with attendees clutching photos of the therapist who “healed hearts.”

This Halloween stabbing shatters illusions of domestic bliss, reminding us that darkness can lurk behind drawn curtains. For Mock, once a beacon of morning light, the fall from grace is precipitous. Will justice illuminate the truth, or deepen the shadows? As Wichita heals, one fact endures: In the echo of that 911 call, a daughter’s cry for salvation became a mother’s final silence.