Harrowing aerial images show a completely demolished Idaho murder house where four students were slaughtered – as accused murderer Bryan Kohberger awaits trial

It only took 90 minutes for Idaho's most famous building to collapse.

The clapboard house at 1122 King Road in Moscow offered no resistance as a red Hitachi excavator moved in before dawn.

And by 8 a.m. the job was done. The house where four University of Idaho students were murdered in their beds is gone – razed in an effort to bring healing to the small town on the border with Washington state.

When it fell, two contractors were left to pick up the rubble and haul it away to be buried in an undisclosed location.

“They want ghouls to have nothing left to loot,” said one of the few locals who joined a crowd of media to witness the doomed house's final seconds.

The home where four University of Idaho students were killed last year was demolished Thursday despite protests from some of the victims' families

It only took 90 minutes for Idaho's most notorious murder house to collapse. The remains can be seen in photos from

The house where four University of Idaho students were murdered in their beds is gone – razed in an effort to bring healing to the small town on the border with Washington state

When it crashed, two contractors were hired to rake and haul away the rubble, burying it in an undisclosed location

Shortly before 6:30 a.m. local time, an excavator tore up the front of the infamous building. It struck the roof, dislodged, and shattered the walls as the building shattered and imploded with a tremendous noise

It's been almost exactly a year since Bryan Kohberger, now 29, who is pursuing a doctorate in criminology at nearby Washington State University, was charged with stabbing 21-year-old friends Kaylee Goncalves and Maddie Mogen, as well as Xana Kernodle and her boyfriend Ethan Chapin , both 20.

The former graduate student is accused of stabbing Kaylee Goncalves, 21, Maddie Mogen, 21, Xana Kernodle, 20, and Ethan Chapin, 20, while they were sleeping at home on November 13th. The victims are pictured with roommates Dylan Mortensen (left) and Bethany Funke (right).

Kohberger was arrested on Dec. 30 during a raid on his parents' home in Pennsylvania's Pocono Mountains, six weeks after, investigators allege, he broke into that three-story clapboard rental home and carried out the now-infamous attacks.

Two roommates, Dylan Mortensen and Bethany Funke, both 21, escaped the Nov. 13 killings at the off-campus property.

Mortensen told investigators that she locked her bedroom door after she saw a man dressed in black and wearing a mask walk past her toward the back exit of the house around 4 a.m.

The murders shocked the small university town as residents and students no longer felt safe in their beds.

When visited King Road all these months later on the eve of demolition, the house seemed to suck all the air from the corner on which it stood.

Isolated and quiet, nestled in the hillside and surrounded by the hollow of fallen leaves, it was as bare and cold as the Idaho winter.

Not surprisingly, many locals we spoke to reported their relief that the moment for demolition had finally arrived.

University representatives, city officials and contractors – who has learned are bound to secrecy by a non-disclosure agreement – met at the site on Wednesday afternoon.

Grim-faced and somber, they laid out the details of the demolition, which University of Idaho President Scott Green said had been the school's intention since it took possession of the house earlier this year.

Green stated: “It is the grim reminder of the heinous act that took place there… it is time to remove it and continue the collective healing of our community.”

The school has already postponed the demolition twice – first at the start of the fall semester, then again in October when Kohberger waived his right to a speedy trial. The trial has now been postponed indefinitely, but is expected to take place in the summer.

The school has already postponed the demolition twice – first at the start of the fall semester, then again in October when Kohberger waived his right to a speedy trial

The delays arose due to fears that premature demolition would jeopardize a successful prosecution as the defense would not have enough time to collect the evidence needed

The university that ordered the demolition claimed it was “trying to balance what is right for the students.” [currently enrolled] and do justice to the memories of the lost students'

The delays arose due to fears that premature demolition would jeopardize a successful prosecution as the defense would not have enough time to collect the evidence needed.

The university has always maintained that it is “trying to balance what’s right for students.” [currently enrolled] and do justice to the memories of the lost students.'

Not all of the victims' families agree that they succeeded.

Last month, Cara Northington, Kernodle's mother, added her name to a petition asking that jurors be allowed to visit the crime scene.

In the change.org petition, she wrote: “My daughter was murdered in this house and there is no way to destroy evidence.”

Similarly, Goncalves' family released a statement earlier this month asking, “Isn't it better to have the King Road?” “Needing the house and not needing it than needing the house and not having it?”

This, the statement continued, was the family's question to prosecutors and the University of Idaho, “the King Road demonstration was an issue all along.”

Why, they wanted to know, was this even up for discussion?

Their statement said: “This is one of the most horrific crimes in Idaho history, and the university wants to destroy one of the most important pieces of evidence in this case.”

The family expressed their utter frustration, describing their opposition to the demolition as “like screaming into the void”, adding: “Nobody listens and everyone tells you how sorry they are for the decision, but the families' opinion is not .'a priority.'

They are not the only ones concerned that the move could negatively impact the jury's ability to reach a verdict in court.

The evening before demolition began, many people were drawn to take a last look at the construction site.

60-year-old local Linda Moser, who has lived in Moscow all her life, remembers the night the emergency shelter was alerted after the attacks.

She told that she understands the desire to “move on” and “heal.”

She said: “This was so shocking to the whole community, the outpouring of love, concern and horror that followed was so overwhelming.”

But she said: “Removing this house does not remove the image of it or the memory, and I think it is important for the jury to be able to see it.”

The house has already been searched multiple times for evidence and preserved in digital form.

Back in October, the FBI used 3D imaging and drones to map the home's interior and exterior in a painstaking exercise lasting several weeks, providing data that could be used in the trial.

Kohberger appears in court in Moscow, Idaho, in October. Judge John Judge – whose order gives the alleged killer's defense a chance to review the genetic evidence against him – speaks on the video screen in the background

Investigators allegedly matched the DNA from a Ka-Bar knife sheath to that of Kohberger. Pictured is a similar 7-inch hunting knife from Ka-Bar

Kohberger was arrested about 2,300 miles from the crime scene in Pennsylvania. He had attended college in Washington state

Earlier this month, on Dec. 14 and 15, teams representing Kohberger requested access to the House as they continued their preparations for the trial, whenever it might take place.

They took photographs, measurements and drone footage – a process that mirrored the work already carried out by the prosecution.

But for Moser and others spoke to, this is no substitute for allowing jurors to tour the house themselves.

She said: “I worry that people looking at it on videos or 3D models won't get a sense of the scale of the place and won't understand the acoustics.”

“I don’t understand the rush to tear it down. When it comes to healing, the path to healing is certainly a sound test. I think they are rushing to do this and jeopardizing this.”

But many who have lived in the house's shadow over the past year told that it was hard to see how a real recovery could begin as long as the building remained intact.

In the months since the murders, TikTokers and true crime junkies have turned the clapboard house into a spooky tourist attraction.

Neighbors revealed that these true crime tourists had become an all too familiar sight on the otherwise quiet street; They drove by slowly or stood outside, cell phones in the air, apparently unaware of the bruise they left behind with every selfie taken and video posted.

Last month, Cara Northington (left), the mother of murdered student Xana Kernodle, 20 (right), added her name to a petition asking that jurors be allowed to visit the crime scene

The parents of Kaylee Goncalves – seen here at a candlelight vigil on campus last year – said: “Isn't it better to have the King Road?” “Needing the house and not needing it than needing the house and not having it?” “

Kohberger has maintained his innocence in the case, and due to an extensive gag order, few details have come to light

Investigators have already built the physical replica of the house when it was occupied by the victims (shown with floor plan).

The way the killer navigated the three-story home in the early hours of a November morning to kill the four students sleeping in separate rooms and floors has raised questions about his motives

Immediately after the November murders, caution tape had been placed around the building, as well as 24-hour security, preserving the integrity of a place that would likely have been trampled upon and looted for morbid souvenirs.

The former “party house” was owned by a private landlord who transferred the property to the University of Idaho earlier this year.

The university immediately erected a tall chain-link fence around the property and hammered sheets of plywood over the windows.

The patio, where there had been a grill and trash that told of the parties once held there—cans of beer and seltzer—was cleared away.

When the excavator trucks brought in the discarded screen windows, an old sofa and a laundry basket in the yard were the few unclaimed remnants of the life once lived here.

The once living monument that had arisen organically along the front wall of the house had shrunk and withered.

Plastic sleeves preserved the casings of floral gifts, stuffed animals that had sagged after months of exposure to the elements, and photographs tucked into glass frames survived only as faded, seasick green shadows of the images placed there by those once moved enough to make the gesture . long gone now.

Soon all of this will be collected and disposed of as trash, as happened with the other monuments that appeared in the wake of the murders next to the Moscow city sign and on the university campus.

University authorities have not yet drawn up a plan for what to do with the property once the house is gone, other than turning it into a “green space.”

For now, all they care about is making sure nothing is left behind that souvenir hunters can claim.