He left the bar with strangers…

According to several reports, witnesses said American Airlines flight attendant Eric Gutierrez, 32, said goodbye to his colleagues at El Poblado, Medellín, at around 1:30 a.m. — cameras captured him talking to two unidentified men before disappearing into the night, leaving his backpack behind.

The vibrant nightlife of El Poblado, one of Medellín’s most popular districts for tourists and locals alike, should have been just another routine layover stop for a seasoned flight attendant. Instead, it became the last place Eric Fernando Gutierrez Molina was seen alive by those who knew him. On the night of Saturday, March 21, 2026, the 32-year-old Dallas-based American Airlines crew member stepped out with coworkers for what was supposed to be a relaxing evening after a flight from Miami. By early Sunday morning, he was gone — vanished without a trace, his backpack abandoned, and his fate now tied to one of Colombia’s most notorious criminal tactics: the terrifying incapacitating drug known as “Devil’s Breath.”

Eric Fernando Gutierrez Molina was the kind of flight attendant passengers and colleagues remembered fondly. Warm, professional, bilingual, and always quick with a smile or a helping hand, the Salvadoran-American had built a solid career with one of the world’s largest airlines. Based at Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport, he had logged thousands of safe miles in the skies. Friends described him as someone who loved travel, cherished his long-term partner Ernesto Carranza, and took simple safety precautions seriously — like sharing his live location when going out on layovers. That night in Medellín, however, those precautions were not enough.

According to multiple reports and witness accounts, Eric had been enjoying the nightlife in El Poblado with at least two coworkers, including a female colleague. The group spent time at a club or bar in the bustling entertainment area. Around 1:30 a.m., Eric reportedly said goodbye to his colleagues and left. Security cameras in the area later captured him in conversation with two unidentified men. The footage shows a seemingly casual interaction — nothing immediately alarming — but it was the last clear sighting of him with people who knew him. Shortly afterward, he disappeared into the night. His backpack was later found abandoned, a detail that has puzzled investigators and heightened fears that something went terribly wrong in those final moments.

What makes this case especially chilling is the growing suspicion that Eric may have fallen victim to scopolamine, the powerful drug infamous in Colombia as “Devil’s Breath” or “burundanga.” Derived from the borrachero tree, scopolamine can be blown into a victim’s face as a fine powder, slipped into a drink, or absorbed through the skin. In small doses, it causes extreme confusion, memory loss, suggestibility, and eventual unconsciousness — turning victims into compliant “zombies” who can be robbed, assaulted, or led anywhere without resistance. In higher amounts or when combined with other substances, it can be fatal. Criminal gangs in Medellín and other Colombian cities have used it for years to commit thefts and other crimes against tourists and locals.

Authorities have confirmed that the two men seen talking with Eric on camera have a documented criminal history involving scopolamine-related thefts. One of Eric’s female coworkers who was with him that night was later found disoriented and in need of medical attention. She reportedly had no memory of large portions of the evening, a classic symptom of scopolamine exposure. Eric himself never returned to his Airbnb in El Poblado. He failed to show up for his scheduled flight back to Miami on Sunday morning. His phone went silent. Friends who had received his shared location tried contacting him repeatedly with no response.

By midday Sunday, a missing person report was filed. Eric’s father flew to Colombia to join the search. His partner Ernesto Carranza and best friend Sharom Gil publicly expressed their anguish, with Ernesto saying he was “shattered” and still wanted to believe Eric was alive. American Airlines issued statements confirming they were working with local authorities and providing support to the family. The Association of Professional Flight Attendants also mobilized, highlighting the vulnerabilities flight crews face during layovers in popular but sometimes risky destinations.

As the days passed without answers, the search intensified. Medellín authorities, working alongside the U.S. Embassy, reviewed extensive security footage, phone records, and witness statements. Eric was last reportedly seen in the La América neighborhood, an area quieter than the main nightlife zones of El Poblado. The distance between his last known location and where his body would eventually be found added another layer of mystery and dread.

On Friday, March 27, Medellín Mayor Federico Gutiérrez delivered the devastating news. A body had been discovered in a rural area between the coffee-farming towns of Jericó and Puente Iglesias, more than 60 miles southwest of Medellín. The location — far from the urban buzz where Eric was last seen — raised immediate questions about how he ended up there. Was he taken against his will? Did the drug render him completely compliant, allowing the two men to transport him? Or did something else happen once the substance took hold?

The mayor stated there was a “very high probability” the body was Eric’s. It was transported to Medellín for formal identification and a full autopsy, including toxicology tests that are expected to be critical in determining whether scopolamine played a role. As of Saturday, March 28, no official cause of death had been released, and no arrests had been made, though the two men remain persons of interest.

The tragedy has sent ripples of fear through the global flight attendant community. Layovers are meant to be brief periods of rest and recovery between long flights. For many crew members, they also offer a chance to experience new cities and cultures. Medellín, once synonymous with danger during the era of Pablo Escobar, has reinvented itself as a vibrant, innovative hub with world-class dining, street art, and nightlife. El Poblado in particular attracts international visitors with its safety reputation and energetic atmosphere. Yet the persistent threat of scopolamine crimes serves as a sobering reminder that risks still exist, especially at night when strangers approach with seemingly friendly intentions.

Eric’s case highlights how quickly a normal evening can turn deadly. Witnesses described him saying a normal goodbye to colleagues around 1:30 a.m. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at that moment. But cameras soon captured him engaged with the two men who have prior links to Devil’s Breath crimes. His backpack left behind suggests he may not have intended to go far — or that events moved faster than he could react. The female coworker’s disorientation and memory loss further point toward the drug as a possible factor.

For Eric’s loved ones, the pain is unimaginable. His partner Ernesto has remained largely private but has expressed profound grief. Friends remember Eric as someone who lived with joy, kindness, and a genuine passion for his job. He took pride in making passengers feel safe and comfortable at 35,000 feet. Now, the skies feel a little emptier for those who flew with him.

American Airlines has expressed deep sorrow and confirmed full cooperation with Colombian authorities while supporting Eric’s family. The airline, like others, provides safety briefings for crew members, but many flight attendants say more can be done — including better real-time tracking tools, mandatory buddy systems for nights out, and stronger partnerships with local law enforcement in high-risk destinations.

The discovery of the body in a remote rural area between Jericó and Puente Iglesias — known for its coffee plantations and winding mountain roads — has only deepened the mystery. How did Eric travel more than an hour away from El Poblado? Was he conscious? Was he moved while under the influence of the drug? Investigators are examining every possibility, from robbery gone wrong to a more sinister outcome.

As the autopsy and toxicology results are awaited, the case has reignited broader conversations about crew safety and the persistent danger of scopolamine in Colombia. The U.S. State Department and embassy in Bogotá have long warned travelers about the drug, advising caution in bars and clubs, never accepting drinks from strangers, and staying in groups. For flight crews on tight schedules and irregular hours, those warnings can sometimes feel distant — until tragedy strikes.

Eric Fernando Gutierrez Molina spent his career ensuring others reached their destinations safely. He was the friendly face in the cabin, the colleague who remembered preferences, the partner who shared dreams of a future together. His final layover in Medellín was supposed to be just another stop on a well-traveled road. Instead, it ended in darkness, with cameras capturing a conversation with strangers and a backpack left behind as silent witnesses.

The aviation community mourns a dedicated professional taken far too soon. Family and friends grieve a loving son, partner, and companion. And investigators continue their work, hoping the truth behind those final hours in El Poblado will bring some measure of justice and closure.

In the days ahead, as more details emerge from the autopsy and ongoing probe, the story of Eric Gutierrez will likely serve as a cautionary tale for travelers and crew members alike. A night out in a beautiful city should never end this way. Yet for one 32-year-old flight attendant who simply wanted to unwind during a layover, a conversation with strangers and the silent threat of Devil’s Breath may have changed everything in an instant.

The backpack he left behind, the security footage of that late-night talk, and the remote location where his body was found all form pieces of a puzzle that is still being assembled. Until the full picture emerges, the aviation world and Eric’s loved ones are left with heavy hearts and urgent questions: What really happened after he left the bar with strangers? And how many more lives must be touched by this invisible danger before stronger protections are put in place?

For now, the night in El Poblado remains shrouded in shadow. A talented, kind-hearted flight attendant said goodbye to colleagues, stepped into the Medellín night, and never made it home. His story is a tragic reminder that even in places that feel safe and welcoming, vigilance is never optional — especially when the night calls and strangers offer to show you the way.