Plagued || John & Jo
He chuckles, “I would… But the last time I did that Adam threatened me with a knife. He assumes I’m possessed or something whenever I say anything of the sort…”
Jo rolled her eyes and ran an hand through her hair. A+ parenting, Winchester… she grumbled silently. “Well… you’ve got to start somewhere. I think it does him good to hear it and you good to say it, even if he doesn’t believe you right away. But, until he does, you show him your serious…I’d start small. Ask about his day and actually listen. Have him show you around, meet the animals, all that kind of stuff.”
Routine || Elizabeth & Jo
Elizabeth took them without a second thought, sliding them into a pocket inside her jacket. She was impressed; the exchange had been short, but effective, quite well handled.
“That happen a lot?” She guessed with a laugh. The men at the table seemed the types to get a little too wasted and regret it in the morning, just to do it all again.
And she understood where Jo was coming from—the natural grace that she handled it with. This was just another part of the job, like teaching the younger generations was Elizabeth’s. You do something enough times and it just becomes … smooth.
“Enough… I tend to remember the ones who need a little incentive to be safe,” Jo answered with a shrug. “I honestly don’t think about it anymore…He’ll look for a few minutes then give up and take the cab.” She had been running a bar long enough to know how to tell which type of drinker would try and drive themselves home and, honestly, didn’t have the patience to try and talk them out of it. This was just an easier solution for everyone.
Catching Up | Bobby & Jo
Bobby put a little smile on his face seeing her remember everything. “Believe it or not I don’t have anything to do for other hunters at the moment. Besides I wanted to check up on ya kid. It’s been a while. You look good, considering last time I saw you, you were in the bloody ripped up clothes you were brought back in. Can I get a beer?” Bobby had sort of a “bonding” experience when Jo came to him after being brought back. He helped her through a lot, got her back on her feet.
“Well, if that’s not a miracle I don’t know what is,” Jo replied with a grin. She scooted over to the beer taps and filled a glass to the brim with what she knew to be Bobby’s favorite and slid it over to him. A wry smile crossed her face as he mentioned how disheveled she’d been when she showed up on his doorstep. “Thanks, I think I’ve bounced back fairly well, all things considered. How’ve you been? Keeping busy, I assume?”
When a child is born, most often their parents are imagining all the possible things they could grow up to be. I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Mudgett didn’t have serial killer on that list for their baby boy Herman. Born on May 16, 1860, Herman Mudgett a.k.a Dr. Henry Howard Holmes grew up to be America’s most deadliest serial killer. It’s believed the body count mounted in to the hundreds but only twenty-seven were confirmed. How does a person kill hundreds of people without drawing unwanted attention? Mix a big city with a large fair and you have the perfect disguise.
In 1889, Holmes arrived in Chicago taking up residence in what is now know as the Englewood neighborhood. He began working for Dr. and Mrs. Holden as a pharmacist. His charming demeanor masked the divorces, frauds and indiscretions performed during medical school, leading the couple to believe they had the perfect assistant. When Dr. Holden succumbed to cancer, Mrs. Holden mysteriously disappeared. Holmes explained to the community she had headed west after he bought the store from her. Business continued to do so well that he bought a lot across the street at 63rd and Wallace with the intentions of building a hotel. The reason for this endeavor was to provide housing for tourist during the upcoming 1893 Columbian Expedition World’s Fair.
The result was a heft three-story building with 60 rooms dubbed “The Castle”. There were also hidden passages and secret stairways, trap doors, chutes plunging to the basement, a staircase that opened to the alley below, asphyxiation champers, a dissecting table and a crematory. Guests who checked in to The Castle often didn’t check out. Even female employees made up of tourists and small town or country girls fell victim to his torturing and murdering ways. After the fair and successfully faking his own death and collecting on the insurance, Holmes traveled for a while looking for the right place to set up shop once more.
He was arrested and incarcerated in St. Louis after a horse swindle in July of 1894. It was during this period he struck up a conversation with the person who was to later snitch on him, Marion Hedgepeth. Holmes failed to deliver Hedgepeth’s share on a failed insurance scam. Hedgepeth’s tip led to the doctors arrest on November 17, 1894 in Boston. Police obtained a warrant to search The Castle. What they found defied all imagination: a dissecting table, bottles of poisons, containers of quicklime, acid big enough to eat away a body, stretching rack, a gas chamber, coffins holding female corpses, an incinerator littered with charred human remains. Holmes was tried and found guilty. He was hanged at Moyamensing Prison On May 7, 1896.
On August 19th, The Castle mysteriously burned to the ground. It was rumored a former accomplice burned it in order to cover up his part in the horror. Some think it was burned down by neighbors or perhaps by accident. Either way, the lot remained vacant until 1938 when a U.S. Postal Office was built. Because of all the blood shed on the property, many believe it to be haunted, maybe even cursed. A number of people involved with his trial died under bizarre circumstances, including a priest who had visited him before his execution, the doctor who certified him dead, the jury foreman, Marion Hedgepeth (who was pardoned) was shot by police at a saloon, and others. There are reports of poltergeist and spirit activity as well as strange noises and unexplained weary feelings. Some even claim Holmes’ ghost visits the Museum of Science and Industry, one of the few remaining structures from the 1893 Exposition, located nearby.
Is Dr. H.H. Holmes continuing his joy of killing or is the horrific history enough to fuel the legend for years to come?
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theyoungesthas-been ASKED: Red. |
Red: 5 facts about my best friend
- He’s super tall. Like, super freakishly tall. He makes me look like I escaped from munchkin land. But he comes in handy when it’s time to clean the rafters or change a lightbulb.
- Kid’s got a way with animals. He practically lives with a zoo and they all follow him around. It’s adorable.
- While he’s not technically gay, he comes in handy when you’re in need of a “gay best friend” for shopping trips, baking advice, or just someone to tell you whether or not you can in fact pull off those boots.
- He’s incredibly loyal, I know I can count on him for anything. If I tell him I need him, he’ll be there.
- Despite what he sometimes thinks, he’s one of the kindest, gentlest, best human beings I know.
Even if he’s not exactly pure human anymore.
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to-hell-in-a-hand-basket ASKED: white |
White: 3 facts about my personality
- I am stubborn to a fault. If I decide I’m going to do something, I don’t care if the rest of the world is against me, I’m going to do it.
- When I’m stressed, I clean. Cliche? Maybe, but it works for me.
- It takes a lot for me to get attached to someone. I tend to keep people at an arms length until they prove they’re actually going to stick around.
followers, what do you want to know?
Purple: 10 facts about my roomBlue: 9 facts about my family
Green: 8 facts about my body
Yellow: 7 facts about my childhood
Orange: 6 facts about my home town
Red: 5 facts about my best friend
Pink: 4 facts about my parents
White: 3 facts about my personality
Grey: 2 facts about my favorite things
Black: 1 fact about the person I like
THOSE WHO HAUNT THE EARTH: RUSALKA
According to Slavic folklore, a rusalka is the spirit of a young women who was murdered in or close to a lake or river. They appear as beautiful young women with bright green eyes who try to lure men and children into the water, where they will drown them. Their shrill laughter is known to be deadly to humans. A rusalka can leave the water at night to sing in trees or join other rusalki to dance in the local meadows, but she cannot live long on dry land. However, rusalki are kept safe with magical combs, which give them the power to conjure water when they need it. According to some legends, should a rusalka’s hair dry out, she will die. A rusalka’s fate can also be undone by avenging her death.
Routine || Elizabeth & Jo
“We’ll see.” Elizabeth remarked with a grin, watching the older girl with mild curiosity. (Hunter, or ex at the very least. Not a pushover, definitely someone who could hold her own. Elizabeth liked her a bit.) “So what’s it like running a place like this?”
“Oh gosh, I’ve been working a bar since before I could walk…” Jo answered with a smile. The sound of glass breaking from the table she’d had her eye on distracted her for a moment and she sighed. “Some nights it’s a pain in my ass…excuse me one moment.”
She slid out from behind the bar, striding across the floor to plant both palms on the offending table. “James. You broke my glass.”
“Ehh wassn’t me, Joey, baby…” the drunk man slurred, making a grab for her wrist and missing.
“Of course it wasn’t, but it’s still coming out of your tab. You understand.” Her hand slid into his coat pocket and plucked out his keys, her fingers curling around them as she straightened. “I’m going to call you a cab, James.”
“Nooooooo, I c’n drive meself…” he began patting his pockets, searching for the keys she’d just stolen as she knew he would. “Jus gotta fin mah keys…”
“Tell you what, you keep looking for them, if you find them before your cab comes I’ll let them know you don’t need it, okay?” Jo smirked as she walked away, nodding to Deanna to call the cab and eventually stopping back in front of Elizabeth, setting the keyring on the counter in front of her with a knowing smile. “Hang on to those for a second, would ya?”
