“Everyone’s done… not moving. Send help NOW!” The frantic 911 screams that pierced the night—as two 17-year-old best friends lay crushed and lifeless on the pavement, mowed down by a teen stalker’s black SUV at 70 mph in a 25 mph zone.

Bystanders watched in horror: e-bikes mangled, bodies thrown like ragdolls, the killer peeling out with a roar.

He’d been tailing one girl for MONTHS—texts, swatting calls, threats. Now charged with double murder, but his ex-cop dad bailed him out in HOURS.

Families demand blood. 👉 Hear the calls that’ll chill you →

A woman’s voice cracks over the 911 line, breathless and breaking: “Everyone’s done… not moving. Oh my God, send an ambulance! It was a hit-and-run—the car just took off!”

In the background, sirens wail faintly as another caller chimes in, his tone laced with disbelief: “Nobody’s conscious… they’re just lying there. It was flying toward downtown—a black SUV, I think.”

Those desperate pleas, captured in seven frantic emergency calls on September 29, 2025, paint a tableau of instant carnage on a quiet suburban street: two 17-year-old high school best friends, Maria Niotis and Isabella “Bella” Salas, hurled 50 feet by a speeding black Jeep Grand Cherokee driven by an alleged stalker with a grudge. As Union County prosecutors released the audio Tuesday—amid mounting pressure from grieving families—the recordings lay bare the raw horror of a targeted rampage that shattered Cranford’s idyllic facade, leaving a community demanding answers about why the suspect, 17-year-old Vincent P. Battiloro, was detained briefly after the crash only to be cut loose to his ex-cop father hours later.

The attack unfolded around 8:15 p.m. on Burnside Avenue, a tree-lined residential stretch in this Union County bedroom community of 25,000—known for its top-rated schools, colonial homes, and Friday night lights at Cranford High. Niotis and Salas, inseparable since freshman orientation, were zipping home on a shared e-bike after grabbing smoothies at a local spot, their laughter echoing under sodium streetlamps. Niotis, a 4.0 honors student and varsity soccer star with dreams of playing at Rutgers, pedaled tandem with Salas, the artistic soul of their duo— a budding painter whose murals adorned the school cafeteria. The girls, both cheerleaders and debate club fixtures, embodied Cranford’s promise: bright futures, unbreakable bonds.

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Isabella Salas and Maria Niotis were struck while riding an e-bike together around 5:30 p.m. September 30, 2025.Obtained by the NY Post

Enter Battiloro, a brooding Garwood teen two towns over, whose obsession with Niotis had festered for months. Neighbors and family friends told investigators he’d bombarded her with unwanted texts—“You’re mine forever”—and fake emergency calls, including a swatting hoax that sent cops to her door weeks prior. “He’d drive by her house at night, just staring,” Niotis’ aunt, Sofia Ramirez, recounted to NJ Advance Media, her voice hollow. “We got a restraining order, but he ignored it. Maria was terrified—changed her routes, blocked his number. We begged the police for help.” Battiloro, a former classmate with a spotty attendance record and whispers of anger issues, allegedly seethed over Niotis’ rejection, plotting his revenge in online rants later seized from his phone.

Court affidavits detail the fury: Battiloro, clocked at 68 mph in the 25 mph zone by a dashcam-equipped witness, spotted the girls from blocks away. He floored it, veering onto the sidewalk in a deliberate swerve that prosecutors call “no accident.” The Jeep’s grille crumpled against the e-bike’s frame, catapulting Niotis and Salas into a chain-link fence. Debris scattered—twisted pedals, a shattered phone screen flashing an incoming text from a friend: “Home safe?” Bystanders, including a jogger and two dog-walkers, rushed to the scene, their shouts blending into the first 911 call at 8:17 p.m.: “Two girls down! They’re not breathing—hurry!” A male voice, later identified as retiree Tom Reilly, 62, described the aftermath: “The car hit them head-on and peeled out. Black SUV, Jersey plates… they’re bleeding everywhere.”

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People bring flowers to the teens’ memorial.Luiz C. Ribeiro for New York Post

Paramedics from the Cranford First Aid Squad arrived at 8:22 p.m., finding Niotis pulseless with massive head trauma and internal bleeding, Salas similarly unresponsive, her leg compound-fractured and torso crushed. Despite frantic CPR and defibrillator shocks on-site, both were pronounced dead at Overlook Medical Center in Summit by 9:05 p.m. Autopsies confirmed the cause: “multiple blunt force injuries consistent with high-velocity impact.” Reilly, who held Niotis’ hand until help came, later told Fox News, “Their eyes… just staring at nothing. It was like the devil himself drove by.” Seven calls flooded dispatchers in under five minutes, a cacophony of panic: one woman sobbing, “My daughter’s friends… please God, no,” unaware the victims were her neighbor’s kids; a teen boy stammering, “I saw the whole thing—it wasn’t a swerve, he aimed right at them!”

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The scene upended the Cranford community.CBS News New York

Battiloro didn’t get far. His Jeep, front end smashed and taillights dangling, was abandoned two miles away near a Garwood strip mall at 8:35 p.m. A K-9 unit tracked him to a wooded lot behind a Dunkin’, where Cranford PD cuffed him without resistance. Bodycam footage shows him muttering, “She had it coming,” as officers read rights—words that prosecutors say seal his intent. But here’s the twist that’s ignited fury: Despite blood on his clothes and witness IDs, Battiloro was held only for “questioning” until 4:17 a.m., then released to his father, retired Newark PD detective Vincent Battiloro Sr., on a juvenile citation for reckless driving. “Very serious concerns,” fumed Union County Prosecutor William A. Daniel in a statement, admitting the quick release stemmed from his age and lack of immediate evidence tying him to murder. The elder Battiloro had even called dispatch post-crash, “checking on his son,” per logs—fueling cries of favoritism.

Arrested two days later on October 1—after Niotis’ phone records linked Battiloro’s number to 47 harassing texts— he now faces two counts of first-degree murder, plus stalking and leaving the scene of a fatal accident. Waived to adult court on October 15, he’s held without bail at Essex County Juvenile Facility, where psychologists evaluated him for “personality disorders.” His attorney, public defender Carla Rossi, claims “insufficient evidence of intent,” but affidavits cite deleted Snapchat messages: “If I can’t have her, no one will.” Families of the girls, speaking through lawyers, blasted the initial release: “A cop’s kid gets a pass while our daughters bleed out?” Niotis’ mother, Elena, told ABC7, “Maria blocked him everywhere. He swatted our house—fake bomb threat. Why wasn’t he locked up sooner?”

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Vincent P. Battiloro was charged as a juvenile.VinnieBat118/YouTube

Cranford reels, its gazebo square—once alive with summer concerts—now a shrine of purple balloons (Salas’ favorite color) and soccer cleats. Joint funerals on October 5 at St. Michael’s drew 1,500 mourners, with eulogies weaving tales of the duo’s antics: Niotis’ killer free kicks, Salas’ sketches of their “endless summer.” GoFundMes for each family topped $150,000, earmarked for scholarships in their names. “They were light itself,” Salas’ father, Marco, a local mechanic, told Patch, clutching a painting of the girls mid-laugh. “This monster dimmed it for jealousy.” The e-bike, a gift from Niotis’ grandparents, lies in evidence lockup—its frame a twisted testament.

The scandal has broader echoes: Calls for juvenile justice reform surge, with #TryThemAsAdults trending after a viral TikTok of the 911 audio hit 5 million views. MADD and anti-stalking advocates point to New Jersey’s lax enforcement—over 2,000 unreported harassment cases yearly. Union County DA Daniel vowed a “thorough review” of the release, while Battiloro Sr. faces internal affairs scrutiny for his post-crash call. Trial looms for January 2026, with prosecutors eyeing the death penalty if upgraded. For now, Burnside Avenue’s sidewalks—repaired but scarred—whisper warnings: In suburbia’s shadows, obsession accelerates to tragedy.

As autumn leaves blanket the crash site, Elena Niotis visits daily, tracing the fence where her daughter fell. “Maria’s voice is in those calls,” she says softly. “Hear her fight? That’s how we’ll fight—for her, for Bella, for every girl stalked in silence.” The 911 echoes fade, but justice’s roar builds. Will Cranford’s cry topple protections for the protected? Two families wait, unyielding.