A routine Friday morning in the quiet Sunland neighborhood of Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley shattered into chaos on February 6, 2026, when a knife-wielding neighbor launched a frenzied attack on a 10-year-old girl and her elderly grandfather right outside their home. What began as an ordinary school drop-off turned into a scene of blood-soaked terror captured on chilling surveillance footage: the suspect charging at the child, stabbing her arm, then turning the blade on the brave grandfather who rushed to protect her, slashing his neck and arm before hijacking their car and fleeing. The victims, rushed to the hospital in stable condition, survived what could have been a deadly ambush, but the community’s sense of safety evaporated in an instant.

The attack unfolded around 7:40 a.m. on Eldora Avenue, a tree-lined street where families have long felt secure walking their kids to school buses or driving them to class. The grandfather, described by neighbors as a kind man in his 70s, was buckling in his granddaughter—along with two other young children in the car—when the nightmare erupted. Surveillance video obtained by KTLA shows the horrifying sequence: two kids stepping down the driveway toward the waiting vehicle, the grandfather helping the 10-year-old settle in, and then a shadowy figure sprinting from the side, knife gleaming in the morning light.

“Just getting up, going to school in the morning and the grandpa puts the granddaughter into the car, psychopath runs at the granddaughter and straight up stabs her in the arm,” horrified neighbor Mike Agajanyan recounted to KTLA. “Grandpa runs at him. He turns the knife on him and stabs him in the neck and on the arm, and then that moron jumps into the car.”

The grandfather’s instinctive heroism likely saved lives. As the blade struck the child in the arm, he charged forward without hesitation, placing himself between the attacker and his granddaughter. The suspect, undeterred, plunged the knife into the older man’s neck and arm, blood spraying across the driveway and fence. Two other children in the vehicle managed to escape during the struggle, fleeing to safety as screams filled the air. The assailant then climbed into the driver’s seat, stole the family car, and sped off, abandoning the vehicle a few miles away before vanishing.

Paramedics from the Los Angeles Fire Department arrived swiftly, finding the grandfather and granddaughter bleeding profusely but conscious. Both were transported to a nearby hospital, where they were listed in stable condition. The girl suffered stab wounds to her arm and possibly neck area, while the grandfather endured severe injuries to his neck and arm—wounds that required immediate medical intervention, including surgery in some reports. Family members later cleaned blood from the fence and driveway, their sobs echoing the neighborhood’s collective shock.

The suspect, quickly identified as a 31-year-old man living next door, was no stranger to the area—or to law enforcement. Police described him as known to them, with a history of erratic behavior, periods of homelessness despite occasionally returning to his parents’ home, and possible mental health issues. Neighbors had long complained about his unsettling presence; residents told media outlets he had terrorized the community for years, frightening people with unpredictable actions. One neighbor even claimed the man carried a photo of the young girl and suggested darker motives, labeling him a potential pedophile who attempted to grab her six months earlier—though police have not confirmed any such allegations or motive publicly.

Within hours of the attack, an intensive manhunt unfolded across Sunland and surrounding areas. Authorities recovered the stolen car, processed the crime scene for evidence including the knife (if left behind), and canvassed for additional witnesses. By the end of the day or shortly after, the suspect was taken into custody, ending the immediate threat but leaving lingering questions about how such violence could erupt so close to home.

This wasn’t an isolated incident in perception. Locals mentioned a possible similar stabbing in the neighborhood months prior, raising alarms about repeated failures to address the suspect’s troubling behavior. “He’s been frightening people in the area for years,” residents told KTLA and Fox 11, painting a picture of a man whose mental instability had been an open secret yet unchecked until blood was spilled.

The grandfather’s courage stands out amid the horror. In his 70s, facing a younger, armed assailant, he didn’t hesitate to defend his granddaughter—a instinctive act of love that turned a potential tragedy into survival. The girl’s injuries, while serious, spared vital organs thanks to quick family response and emergency services. Reports indicate she was released from the hospital relatively soon, while her grandfather underwent surgery but remained stable.

Sunland, a suburban pocket in the sprawling San Fernando Valley, prides itself on tight-knit community vibes—kids riding bikes, families chatting over fences, morning routines unchanged for decades. That illusion cracked wide open on February 6. Parents now second-guess school drop-offs; grandparents hesitate before stepping outside. The attack exposed vulnerabilities in everyday life: how a single disturbed individual can upend safety in seconds.

Mental health experts note that untreated issues, combined with easy access to weapons like knives, can escalate into random or targeted violence. While no clear motive has been released—whether random rage, fixation on the child, or something else—the suspect’s history suggests long-simmering problems ignored or inadequately managed by systems meant to intervene.

Community outrage boiled over in the aftermath. Neighbors gathered, some holding signs or sharing stories of past encounters with the suspect. One resident described him as living out of his car at times, returning sporadically to his parents’ house next door. The proximity amplified the terror: the attacker wasn’t a stranger from afar but the man literally next door, whose yard abutted the victims’.

Security footage became a grim centerpiece. Released portions show the suspect’s approach—calculated yet frenzied—lunging at the car door, stabbing through open windows or as victims reacted. Blood visible on victims as they staggered, family rushing out in panic, neighbors dialing 911. The video, while disturbing, aided the rapid identification and arrest, underscoring the double-edged sword of home surveillance in modern suburbs.

For the family, recovery stretches ahead. The 10-year-old faces physical healing—stitches, possible therapy for scars—and emotional trauma from an assault that targeted her innocence. The grandfather, already in his later years, contends with neck and arm wounds that could affect mobility long-term. Their home, once a haven, now bears bloodstains scrubbed away but memories that linger.

Broader questions ripple outward: How do communities protect against known threats? What responsibility do families or authorities bear when warning signs accumulate? Mental health resources in Los Angeles remain strained, with calls for better intervention programs growing louder after incidents like this.

As of February 11, 2026, the suspect faces serious charges—attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, carjacking, and more—pending formal filing. Police continue investigating, piecing together timeline, motive, and any prior incidents. The neighborhood holds its breath, hoping justice brings closure.

Yet amid the darkness, glimmers of resilience emerge. The grandfather’s protective charge, the children’s escape, the swift community and police response—all testify to human strength in crisis. Sunland may never feel quite the same, but its people rally, vowing to watch closer, speak up sooner, and shield the vulnerable.

This stabbing wasn’t just another crime statistic; it was a brutal reminder that safety can fracture in an instant, even in the most ordinary moments. A school morning turned battlefield, a grandfather’s love tested by steel, a child’s trust shattered by a neighbor’s blade. The scars—physical and communal—will fade slowly, but the story of that February morning in Sunland will echo as a cautionary tale of vigilance, courage, and the fragile line between peace and peril.