The Murder Castle
- Reads 60
- Votes 5
- Parts 1
H. H. Holmes was a murderer from 1892-1893. In 1983 in Chicago, he built a hotel that was a block long and three stories tall and intended to serve as a place for his murders. He chose this time because he knew people would need somewhere to stay due to the World Fair (the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus’s landing in the Americas.) The bottom floor consisted of a variety of shops and his relocated drug store. On the other two floors he had an office, a vault, and roughly one hundred windowless rooms. These rooms would open up to staircases to nowhere, brick walls, and extremely narrow hallways. Holmes had placed piping throughout the hotel. With the piping, he could send out gas to asphyxiate his victims. There were chutes that lead to the basements. Once the bodies reached this point, he would clean them and sell them to medical schools or burn them. This poem is about a fictional victim in a historical event.
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of the worst dolor
he carried the lil baby girl paving around trying to stop her from crying. she never stopped and he started to get worried. she soon stopped and he sighed satisfied. he dropped her on her little bed as she kept mute. he went up to get her food. just then, he heard a loud scream and hurried down. he met his aunt with her baby crying. she turned in anger only to find him making food for her baby. what the hell have you done again? she yelled in tears. he was puzzled. nothing. he stammered and she hit him hard on his face. you killed her! she yelled and he staggered backwards in shock. I've always bren a barren all my life and fortunately, I have birth and now, u killed her. she said calmly in tears. I don't want to see you hear by the time I return. you're useless and worthless!! she shot her heart up and walked right pass him. hot years streamed down his face as he left.Complete![Let me [BEEP] sleep!](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/351413726-256-k622107.jpg)
Let me [BEEP] sleep!
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He advanced, leering at her. ‘Some people call me a murderer,’ he suddenly whispered, more to himself. ‘Some call me an experimenter. Others, the Blood Prince. The Surgeon. The Judger of Sins. The Practitioner of Death. The Bringer of Hell. The Nightmare of England. The Shadow of Cuba. The Warlock of Tibet. The Necromancer of France. The Crazy and Loony Guy.’ He shook his head at that last one. ‘But they appeared to me in my sleep. In my dreams, they told me what to do. They told me why, and how, and how great an honour it would be. I am the Messenger of God, the Hand of Satan himself. Jesus would hide at me. There is no Hell worse than me. There are no nightmares. This is reality. I am reality. I am Death. Now, let your sins be judged. ’ He held his hands open, his scalpel in one hand, his eyes closed, and stopped. They snapped open. His lips curled. He made his way towards her again. ‘God has sentenced you to Satan. I shall make the passageway there for you.’ WARNING: Very Messy Business. Do Not Read if you do not have the Stomach For This.Complete
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he carried the lil baby girl paving around trying to stop her from crying. she never stopped and he started to get worried. she soon stopped and he sighed satisfied. he dropped her on her little bed as she kept mute. he went up to get her food. just then, he heard a loud scream and hurried down. he met his aunt with her baby crying. she turned in anger only to find him making food for her baby. what the hell have you done again? she yelled in tears. he was puzzled. nothing. he stammered and she hit him hard on his face. you killed her! she yelled and he staggered backwards in shock. I've always bren a barren all my life and fortunately, I have birth and now, u killed her. she said calmly in tears. I don't want to see you hear by the time I return. you're useless and worthless!! she shot her heart up and walked right pass him. hot years streamed down his face as he left.
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