WritersBeat.com
 

Go Back   WritersBeat.com > Write Here > Fiction

Fiction Novel excerpts, short stories, etc.


Dr H.H. Holmes

Reply
 
Thread Tools
  #1  
Old 08-30-2018, 05:01 AM
Ed Dazere (Offline)
Scribbler
Official Member
 
Join Date: Aug 2018
Posts: 26
Thanks: 6
Thanks 2
Default Dr H.H. Holmes


OF MY FAMILY I’LL SAY THIS MUCH
We were based in a poxy little town called Gilmanton, New Hampshire. I had two brothers, one older one younger and an older sister. Now, my older brother was quite religious (we were nominally Methodists), and he had designs in that direction, like a missionary; the youngern, was just a squib unworthy of further mention. My sister was someone many espying boys would have liked to tup, but she, intuitively cognizant, was not conducive and would keep her distance (I suspected she was fearful that I might try that thing on; if so, I resent it). My mother was just a damp napkin (ditto brother no 2). My father was seemingly quite formidable, but in a fey, pantomime sort of way, a disciplinarian, very religious, which I was not; so, he’d catch me saying something like “For Chrissakes, get off the Goddamn jakes Arthur, I need to go…!”, then stomp out and say something like “Youtook the Lord’s name in vain!”, and he’d look terribly irate, but like he was about to make water, then screech “I simply won’t tolerate…!”. Then an ineffectual thrashing with his belt, which would amuse me: just slapping around the edges so to speak. (There was something very odd about him, which took me years to work out; I met someone in the most insalubrious quarters of Chicago, then the penny dropped, and I almost did with laughter.)
1
The best cure for torturing animals with boys is either to get badly maimed by one or the inauguration of wood I mean the libido sparking up like a star. I believed I had grown out of the animal thing, had a clean bill of health, and neatly segued into the ‘girl thing’, and I don’t mean a ‘bad thing’, like torturing them, sending them on races with their hair and skirts afire etc, no, much to my surprise, I actually genuinely felt that I was destined to live a nice and normal life. So, the girl in question Clara Lovering (a charming name don’t you think!), she was of English stock – as was I – and she was of the Nordic ilk, with some lovely blonde hair (nearly platinum), and eyes like sapphires, and her skin was milk. But notwithstanding those winsome attributes, she was rather plump, and masculine of countenance. I was lovestruck anyhow. And my, did she have the goods, ostensibly sufficient to thwart any recidivism; she was ostensively triumvirately bounteously fruitful shall we say. We had a child, Robert Lovering Mudgett, born on February 3, 1880 (he became a C.P.A., served as city manager of Orlando, Florida, which was extraordinary given his provenance). If you’d seen us as a nuclear family unit, say on a jaunt by the lakeside or in a park, you’d think we were pretty much A-O.K. I was teaching bratfarm, Gilmanton, Alton. Part of me wanted things to carry on in that innocent fashion, but we all here know that the reason we are here is that that part of my psyche was mere fanny compared to the antithetical other, the order of things, that took control lock stock and smoking barrel.
2
I had given up interest in teaching brat, had never really been into that at all. What I had really decided on long before – at least subliminally – was something to do with humans that involved opening them up and finding out the secrets therein, and that meant either being a mortician, or aphysician, as far as I was concerned anyhow, and the latter was much more prestigious. The urge to discover their inner workings was maddening, perhaps as much so as dope or alcohol is for an addict-fiend. And there were other designs forming, which were far too incipient to be clear, but they were growing like some awful-creature-grubs, that much I could tell.
So, I enrolled at the University of Vermont, in Burlington aged 18, and I studied their course for a while then got the distinct impression that the faculty consisted of a bunch of snake oil salesmen and dubious sawbones (like the ancient booger who claimed to have been a battle surgeon during the Civil War, which everyone must have known was a stretcher). I wasn’t going to take that for academia despite my developing macabre desires and designs that were distinctly at odds with the ole Hippocratic O and my expedient desire to enact them, so I enrolled at the University of Michigan's Department of Medicine and Surgery, and that was much more to my academic level/delectation. As ill of me you may think re my crimes, I was damn smart, as my chroniclers will admit – well they better!
You would not believe some of the ilk that were matriculated on the course; I mean, some of them threw up at the first sight of a cadaver. I on the other hand was entranced; the smell of the formalin mixed with that of the slowly decaying bodies was like an attar to me. I had found nirvana.
3
Cadavers are interesting, not just because of what’s inside of them, but because of their financial potential. In the past – for reasons that were probably religious/superstitious – cadavers for anatomical study were hard to come by, which retarded the advancement of the science (Burke and Hare made a killing out of, well, killing people to sell their corpses to Drs and I believe theirs’ were utilised thus – such a poetic circularity!). Before I started on my killing, I’d make a ‘killing’ out of utilising cadavers for insurance purposes. You see one way is to get someone to take out a life insurance policy and make you the beneficiary, then a corpse turns up in the road, dead for myriad prospective reasons (medicine back then was pretty primitive, and proper I.D. was almost non-existent), and you enlist a crook lawyer, and hey presto, you get the windfall, which may be shares, or maybe the other party gets the chop, and maybe, via the same trick becomes another windfall. I did that some, because they had a drunk in charge of the cadaver room, and I sometimes ran it, the conscientious student that I was, and I even saw two corpses me and another student had used for that fraud return. I think that was when I decided that the cadavers I sought needn’t come from natural causes nor through a hospital. For Chrissakes, I was a rootin’ tootin’ murderer just busting to get on the job, waiting for my creds to come good – there’s nothing worse than a serial killer than a no-show or an amateur at it. My mind was already making up a list of subjects, types possible. People would die like flies back then, the law hardly turned a blind eye, less you were a Goddamn fool at it, a fool enough to be taken for the culprit and bite another’s bullet, get the Faraday-Throne or the lynch, which some did on my behalf quite possibly. It was rich pickings for Mr Smartypants = Me.
4
It is reputed that Clara was mistreated by me, reportedly so by fellow students, and wouldn’t that fit the bigger picture pat. Actually, it was that I took her violence like a castrato panto-ass, cuffs and blows, insults enough to make you a pachyderm, lover of the sex and their exhilarating attributes that I was. Anyhow, maybe having lost all respect for me, she jilted, boosted herself elsewhere, and the kid, and that was the end of our affair, and I loved her still, and still, then it was like she was one of those mewling cat fraudsters that caused so much water, then she was just a Goddamn bitch to me. But I was a busy busy busy bee, designs Milton would have liked. And I was fit to go over the Rubicon whenever it would let me, and it was as if there was a nest of baldifaced hornets in my noddle, just waiting to go berserk. I had no time to worry about the mistakes of the past. There were too many people who had escaped death by unnatural causes, and they or their ilk were going to get their comeuppance. Time was ticking, faster for some than others.
5
I will not deny that I was proud of my appearance I feel that there was a certain éclat and that this was instrumental in the downfall of various persons at my hands. Because even men are attracted to attractive men; but by golly, had it gone any further than an oblique affinity for the aesthetics of my physiognomy, death would have ensued and been as painful as something conjured by ole Vlad or his chief sadist. I looked like some sheriff from Tombstone or Texarkana, just like from those old factitious Western movies from the 1950/60s, the buster who ran the town, with a Billycock hat, rampant-rambler tache, and my eyebrows two satellites thereof, and I’d be packing two Colt Peacemakers and a bandolier belt, a golden timepiece on a generous fob, herringbone worsted waistcoat and all the other fitting sartorial trappings corollary, and I’d have some dynamite phrase off pat for the neophyte bad guy, like: “Kick yer ass outta town, before I set them thar boys on a hellacious mission to’t” (a silly fantasy). And boy was I a charmer, to homo sapiens, to domesticated animals (I hope I’d made it clear I’d grown out of the terror unto the latter category). To be quite honest, I didn’t want to spend too much time on this mortal coil; had only partial inklings of the two haitches being my likely destinations. I was the fraudster from Hell an apostate thereof, but fraudster that I was, I did keep some inkling of faith and wore a nice 22 carat cross my grandma gifted me, to hedge my bets.
6
But you’re here to read about my killing people – not trivia. I won’t be long getting onto it, a few hundred words at most, I promise. (If you complain to my editor, you bet your copper-bottomed ass I’ll come for you, in your noddle, like a nightmare record on constant replay, like a nest of crazed baldifaced hornets unleashed, buzzing you mad, stinging you mad and you’ll beg to die just kidding?) All I wanted to say was that I had this peculiar dream, which went thus: I was some kind of weird vespid, not unlike a yellajacket, and I had my Billycock hat and physiognomy like from the Western scenario above, and I had this whippy tail that wasn’t a stinger but felt vital, and a teeny little stinger that seemed like it couldn’t even kill an ant, and I was crawling around my nest inspecting the crew, the grubs (the whole Goddamn family reveille), and flying outside I was pleased as punch with the paper nest (house proud), then these hornets came in a warparty, and started attacking my commune and chopping their heads off with their mandibles, like secateurs, and I was so irate, so determined to stop this awful business, but I felt powerless, and a hornet cornered me in a passage, and it gave me this evil-evil look, its mandibles going like secateurs maniacally, and it made this stridulating noise that frightened the hell out of me, and I hollered “go hie your yellabellied ass outta here you S.O.B., before I set my boys on ya”, and showed it my stinger and whippy tail, and it came closer, and made more of that awful chirring noise, and then it raised up and protruded its abdomen at me from underneath, and its stinger came out, and it was a hell of a stinger and it was dripping venom, and then it just rushed me and took the Billycock hat off my head with its jaws and chewed it to bits, and I was sure it was about to decapitate me, or zap me, and where were my boys!, they were crawling out of a huge caterpillar I’d planted them in, just iddy-biddy and no real use…when I woke sweating, upright fit to scream, as if an archangel had come to pay a visit, or Satan. And there was a queen yellajacket in the room up by the ceiling, and my, was she a frightful sight, buzzing and trading levels in a somnolent fashion.


Last edited by Ed Dazere; 08-30-2018 at 05:06 AM..
Reply With Quote
  #2  
Old 08-30-2018, 10:03 AM
daes13's Avatar
daes13 (Offline)
Heartbreaking Writer of Staggering Genius
Official Member
 
Join Date: Oct 2014
Location: At 1040 MPH... So I'm not sure
Posts: 1,653
Thanks: 418
Thanks 422
Default

2 and 3 are written very well. Is each section this short? If so, have you considered a memoir diary format?
__________________
I'm just bored. Slinging the first thought that comes to mind, which is often poor advise.

Courtesy of BP
Reply With Quote
The Following User Says Thank You to daes13 For This Useful Post:
Ed Dazere (08-31-2018)
  #3  
Old 08-31-2018, 12:37 AM
Ed Dazere (Offline)
Scribbler
Official Member
 
Join Date: Aug 2018
Posts: 26
Thanks: 6
Thanks 2
Default Dr H.H Holmes

Thanks,

It is 11800 words long, and so I can only put it up in 2.5k segments.

It is just a first person account as an article for a magazine on serial killers. Highly fictionalized.

As the "story" develops, so does the pathology of the character, his descent into madness. Keep in mind hymenoptera, since that is what I have used to represent his monomania, madness.

Anon
Reply With Quote
  #4  
Old 09-03-2018, 12:24 PM
Chinspinner's Avatar
Chinspinner (Offline)
Heartbreaking Writer of Staggering Genius
Official Member
 
Join Date: Aug 2012
Posts: 1,317
Thanks: 204
Thanks 230
Default

I must admit to my laziness, those paragraphs are long, can you cut them up?
Reply With Quote
  #5  
Old 09-03-2018, 12:30 PM
brianpatrick's Avatar
brianpatrick (Online)
Still Clicking!
Official Member
 
Join Date: Sep 2014
Location: Arizona
Posts: 5,582
Thanks: 442
Thanks 1,232
Default

Originally Posted by Chinspinner View Post
I must admit to my laziness, those paragraphs are long, can you cut them up?


Pussy...
Reply With Quote
  #6  
Old 09-03-2018, 12:38 PM
Chinspinner's Avatar
Chinspinner (Offline)
Heartbreaking Writer of Staggering Genius
Official Member
 
Join Date: Aug 2012
Posts: 1,317
Thanks: 204
Thanks 230
Default

Originally Posted by brianpatrick View Post
Pussy...
Oh, if it were Dostoevsky or Eco, I would read every word, but when it is "probably terrible" I refuse to.
Reply With Quote
  #7  
Old 09-03-2018, 12:44 PM
brianpatrick's Avatar
brianpatrick (Online)
Still Clicking!
Official Member
 
Join Date: Sep 2014
Location: Arizona
Posts: 5,582
Thanks: 442
Thanks 1,232
Default

Originally Posted by Chinspinner View Post
Oh, if it were Dostoevsky or Eco, I would read every word, but when it is "probably terrible" I refuse to.


It’s actually pretty good, but the fella has taken a big bite of something incredibly hard to do right. His grammar is good and he can write.
Reply With Quote
  #8  
Old 09-03-2018, 01:41 PM
daes13's Avatar
daes13 (Offline)
Heartbreaking Writer of Staggering Genius
Official Member
 
Join Date: Oct 2014
Location: At 1040 MPH... So I'm not sure
Posts: 1,653
Thanks: 418
Thanks 422
Default

Read 2 and 3 at least chin, its all written well, but those two reek of character.
__________________
I'm just bored. Slinging the first thought that comes to mind, which is often poor advise.

Courtesy of BP
Reply With Quote
  #9  
Old 09-04-2018, 03:53 AM
Ed Dazere (Offline)
Scribbler
Official Member
 
Join Date: Aug 2018
Posts: 26
Thanks: 6
Thanks 2
Default Dr H.H. Holmes

This article/story is a pulp-horror story spoof - it is meant to be terrible, like Spinal Tap.
Reply With Quote
  #10  
Old 09-04-2018, 07:54 PM
brianpatrick's Avatar
brianpatrick (Online)
Still Clicking!
Official Member
 
Join Date: Sep 2014
Location: Arizona
Posts: 5,582
Thanks: 442
Thanks 1,232
Default

Originally Posted by Ed Dazere View Post
This article/story is a pulp-horror story spoof - it is meant to be terrible, like Spinal Tap.


Ah... it needs to be more apparent then, funnier, right up front. Something obvious and silly.

It’s hard to write famous people as MC’s. Everybody in the world knows SOMETHING about them, and all the things they know are different.

I once wrote a story with famous people as characters but it went over like a fat seal, frozen and slowly, obviously, lacking.

You can make sentences, but I’m not sure this is your magnum opus.
Reply With Quote
  #11  
Old 09-05-2018, 12:51 AM
Ed Dazere (Offline)
Scribbler
Official Member
 
Join Date: Aug 2018
Posts: 26
Thanks: 6
Thanks 2
Default Dr H.H. Holmes

The problem with this character, is that little is known about him, and what is said about him is often contradictory, and you really don't know what to believe. My next one is on Liver Eating Johnston, and with that, I really am flying blind.
Reply With Quote
  #12  
Old 09-07-2018, 01:36 PM
Chinspinner's Avatar
Chinspinner (Offline)
Heartbreaking Writer of Staggering Genius
Official Member
 
Join Date: Aug 2012
Posts: 1,317
Thanks: 204
Thanks 230
Default

We were based in a poxy little town called Gilmanton, New Hampshire. I had two brothers, one older one younger and an older sister. Now, my older brother was quite religious (we were nominally Methodists), and he had designs in that direction, like a missionary; the youngern, was just a squib unworthy of further mention. //

My sister was someone many espying boys would have liked to tup, but she, intuitively cognizant, was not conducive and would keep her distance (I suspected she was fearful that I might try that thing on; if so, I resent it). //

My mother was just a damp napkin (ditto brother no 2). //

My father was seemingly quite formidable, but in a fey, pantomime sort of way, a disciplinarian, very religious, which I was not; so, he’d catch me saying something like “For Chrissakes, get off the Goddamn jakes Arthur, I need to go…!”, then stomp out and say something like “Youtook the Lord’s name in vain!”, and he’d look terribly irate, but like he was about to make water, then screech “I simply won’t tolerate…!”. Then an ineffectual thrashing with his belt, which would amuse me: just slapping around the edges so to speak. (There was something very odd about him, which took me years to work out; I met someone in the most insalubrious quarters of Chicago, then the penny dropped, and I almost did with laughter.)

Ok, your writing is very good, but to my earlier point, paragraph suggestions. I might have sounded flippant, but very seriously, long paragraphs are a turn-off.
Reply With Quote
The Following User Says Thank You to Chinspinner For This Useful Post:
Ed Dazere (09-08-2018)
  #13  
Old 09-08-2018, 02:16 AM
Ed Dazere (Offline)
Scribbler
Official Member
 
Join Date: Aug 2018
Posts: 26
Thanks: 6
Thanks 2
Default

Thank you Chinspinner.

I will take the time to critique some of your work, too.

Bear in mind, that what I post isn't formatted as written. Also, I typically consume 8 pints of bear a day (which is going to stop pronto)

There is a happy medium, which I shall seek to perfect.

Ed
Reply With Quote
Reply

  WritersBeat.com > Write Here > Fiction


Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off


Similar Threads
Thread Thread Starter Forum Replies Last Post
What Are You Reading? Oasis Writer The Library 3739 10-14-2018 10:26 PM
Dr H.H. Holmes Ed Dazere Fiction 4 08-30-2018 02:16 AM
Esther Holmes CoalSmudge Character Clinics 2 05-23-2014 04:43 PM
Writing a Sherlock Holmes adaptation - Coming Up With the Details Angelus Writing Help & Issues 6 11-20-2013 08:38 PM
Making a Sherlock Holmes Series - Writters Needed! KelticSpade Writing Markets 3 01-07-2011 07:01 AM


All times are GMT -8. The time now is 04:16 PM.

vBulletin, Copyright © 2000-2006, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.