Bryan Kohberger, the convicted butcher of four University of Idaho students, is digging in his heels against forking over an extra $27,000 to two of the victims’ families, with his legal squad arguing that hefty GoFundMe hauls from sympathetic strangers should suffice. The 30-year-old former criminology Ph.D. student, slapped with four consecutive life sentences in July after pleading guilty to the savage 2022 stabbings, had already coughed up nearly $29,000 in initial restitution as part of a controversial plea deal that spared him the needle. Now, in a fresh court filing that’s ignited fresh outrage, his attorneys are telling a judge: Enough is enough—the Goncalves and Mogen clans raked in over $200,000 from online donors, so why should Kohberger’s empty prison wallet take another hit?

The motion, filed October 7 in Ada County District Court and obtained by Fox News, comes as prosecutors push for the additional payout to cover travel, lodging, and other trial-related costs shelled out by the families of Kaylee Goncalves, 21, and Madison Mogen, 21. Kohberger’s team, led by public defender Anne Taylor and private attorneys Elisa Massoth and Bicka Barlow, contends the request doesn’t qualify as reimbursable “economic loss” under Idaho Code 19-5304, pointing to three specific GoFundMe campaigns that flooded the families with cash earmarked for exactly those expenses. One joint fundraiser for Goncalves and Mogen pulled in $73,493; another netted $48,815 for Mogen’s mom, Karen Laramie, to jet to Boise for hearings; and a third stuffed $85,583 into the pockets of Steve and Kristi Goncalves and their surviving kids for the same purpose. “The additional funds sought do not qualify… because [the families] received extensive funds through multiple GoFundMe campaigns that specifically asked for and covered the expenses sought,” the lawyers wrote, adding a kicker: Kohberger’s got zero means to pay anyway, rotting away in the Idaho Maximum Security Institution with no income stream in sight.

It’s a cold calculus from a man whose crimes froze a campus in terror. On November 13, 2022, Kohberger allegedly slipped into the off-campus home at 1122 King Road in Moscow, Idaho, wielding a KA-BAR-style knife that he plunged into the sleeping bodies of Goncalves, Mogen, Ethan Chapin, 20, and Xana Kernodle, 20. The attack, which left roommates Bethany Funke and Dylan Mortensen cowering in fear after spotting the hooded intruder, shattered the sleepy college town’s illusion of safety. Kohberger, a Washington State University grad student living just 10 miles away, was nabbed six weeks later at his parents’ Pennsylvania home during a frantic Christmas road trip. DNA from a knife sheath abandoned at the scene, cellphone pings placing his Hyundai Elantra prowling the block, and creepy Amazon buys for a KA-BAR knife and Butera knife sheath sealed his fate—despite a two-year cat-and-mouse game of denial and delays.

Fast-forward to July 2025: Facing a mountain of damning evidence and a potential death row date, Kohberger flipped the script with a last-minute guilty plea on July 2, dodging the death penalty in a deal hammered out in secret that left some victims’ relatives fuming. Sentenced July 23 by Judge Steven Hippler to life without parole—four counts stacked like the bodies he left behind, plus 10 years for burglary—Kohberger mumbled a half-hearted “I’m very sorry” in court, his voice barely audible over the families’ raw sobs. As part of the pact, he ponied up $250,000 in fines, $20,000 per family, and a vow to reimburse funeral costs and Crime Victims Compensation Fund payouts—tallied at $28,956.88 by late August. But when the state tacked on $20,409 for the Goncalveses (including $1,500 for urns) and $6,920 for Laramie last month, Kohberger’s crew cried foul. Not only late—filed past the 60-day post-sentencing window—but redundant, they claim, since public pity parties already footed the bill.

The GoFundMe angle is a gut punch. After the murders gripped the nation—sparking true-crime podcasts, Netflix docs, and endless Reddit rabbit holes—donors worldwide poured out support. The campaigns, launched amid expectations of a drawn-out trial, were laser-focused on Boise travel: flights from Idaho’s panhandle, hotel stays in a city 300 miles south, rental cars for court dates that dragged into 2025. When Kohberger’s plea nuked the trial on the eve of jury selection, the windfall turned awkward. The Goncalveses, vocal critics of the “rushed” deal, blasted on Facebook July 3 that they aimed to refund every dime—”Many people are talking about our GoFundMe and returning everyone’s money”—but admitted the cash was already disbursed, complicating reversals. Steve Goncalves griped to TMZ it was a logistical nightmare, with GoFundMe unable to claw back funds post-deposit. Laramie echoed the sentiment, though details on her refunds remain murky.

Kohberger’s lawyers lean hard on this, arguing the families “indicated a desire to refund” but skipped proof in the state’s motion. They concede the urn costs—$3,000 total, already reimbursed by the victims’ fund—deserve payment but draw a line at the rest: “Given the specific funds sought and obtained… neither family suffered an economic loss.” It’s a pragmatic play in a state where restitution is meant to make victims “whole,” not enrich them twice over. But critics blast it as tone-deaf gall from a killer who stalked his prey via Snapchat geolocation and ditched bloody gloves in a dumpster. “This is the final insult,” fumed one legal watcher on X, where #KohbergerRestitution trended with memes of empty wallets and middle fingers.

The hearing’s set for November 5—a virtual showdown where prosecutors could counter with receipts showing refunds never materialized or argue moral imperative trumps technicalities. Kohberger, transferred to max security amid whispers of inmate beefs, sits mum in his cell, his family’s Pennsylvania roots offering no lifeline. The other families—Chapin and Kernodle—haven’t joined the fray, their slice of the $20K pie undisputed.

This saga underscores the raw edges of victim justice in high-profile horrors. Idaho’s Crime Victims Compensation Act caps aid at $25,000 per claim, but restitution from perps like Kohberger is open-ended—meant to claw back every dime of pain. Yet with GoFundMe’s viral empathy filling gaps, lines blur between charity and court orders. As one victim’s advocate told the Idaho Statesman, “Donations ease the burden, but they don’t erase the debt owed by the monster who did this.” For the Goncalveses, who’ve slammed the plea as a “betrayal,” every denied dollar stings like another stab wound.

Three years post-massacre, the King Road house razed to a memorial garden, Moscow heals unevenly—annual vigils, beefed-up campus security, a community scarred but standing. Kohberger’s refusal? Just another chapter in a book no one wants to read, reminding that even behind bars, evil finds ways to nickel-and-dime the grieving. Whether Judge Hippler buys the GoFundMe defense or mandates the payout, one thing’s clear: For these families, no amount settles the score