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The Savage King Henry VIII

As an American I can’t explain my obsession with Tudor England, except that there’s so much scandal and murder involved. And y’all already know that I do love me some scandal and murder! King Henry VII King Henry VIII had only been the second of the Tudor dynasty; his father, Henry VII, who had held very few ties to the crown, won the throne from Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth in 1485…

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The oldest inn in Denmark sounds like something that was taken straight out of a horror story bordering on being too cliche or weird to be believable.

I present to you Bromølle Kro

We don’t know how old it is because it was first mentioned in a text from 1198 when it had already been open for years. I could go into detail about how it also used to function as a mill and store but that’s boring.

The first strange part is that the current building isn’t the original. You see, it was build on a bog and slowly each incarnation of the inn would get more and more damp, the floor would become soggy, mould would spread and the walls would bend as the whole thing sank into the ground. Eventually the owners would tear the whole thing down and build a new inn on the rubble. They did this over and over again, leaving everyone to wonder why they didn’t rebuild it somewhere else.

Then in the 1700’s guests started to disappear. It took a while for people to notice because most guests were travellers who were expected to be gone by morning anyway, but eventually so many people disappeared it couldn’t be ignored.

The couple who owned the inn were accused of getting rich patrons senselessly drunk, dragging them to their room and beating them to death with a club hidden under the bed. They then threw the victims out the window into the river that ran behind the inn.

For years people weren’t sure how true the story was. Did they really kill that many people? How would that even be possible without anyone seeing or hearing it?

Then in the 1950’s people wanted to straighten the river out for convenience and after they temporarily dried it up they started digging and found a skeleton. And another. And another. And another.

In all they dug up 28 skeletons from one small stretch of the river very close to the inn. And those were just the ones they found.

And despite all this the inn stayed in business. It wasn’t closed despite repeatedly sinking into the ground. It didn’t close when the owners were hanged for being serial killers. And it didn’t bother anyone that they had been sleeping and dining next to murder victims for years.

Today the ground has dried up and you can even enjoy the view of the river while you have lunch. They keep two of the skulls in the reception and named one of them Frede (a name that means peace/rest) for your viewing pleasure.

And somehow Bromølle Kro just keeps going and going…

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The Facebook Killer

Miami, Florida in August of 2013 –Imagine that it’s an average day, you’re scrolling through Facebook as usual when you see a picture of your loved one; you notice she’s laying in a very awkward position, and that she’s bleeding. At first you probably think it’s a prank, your mind won’t allow you to understand what you’re seeing – but then you notice it’s her husband’s post, and he’s admitted to…

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My Fave Morbid Historical Event

Which historical killers and/or events fascinate me the most? Gosh, I’m a total (Morbid) history buff so this is so difficult for me to choose just one! I have an affinity for the Tudors – King Henry vii and his wives. Then there his daughters, Queen Mary (who is often referenced as Bloody Mary today) and then “The Virgin Queen” Elizabeth. Ask me anything about them and I’ll tell you – and not…

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Merry Christmas Y’all ❤️

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#didyouknow #fact #serial #serialkiller #psychopath #sociopath #truecrimecommunity #truestory

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To any suicidal followers I may have: This is a sign to not kill yourself. You are loved and the world is special because you are in it. Keep holding on.

Reblog this when it’s on your dash. You will save someone’s life.

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UPDATE! The bitch is dead!!!

We all know that Jeffrey Dahmer was beaten to death while in prison by a fellow inmate named Christopher Scarver on November 28th, 1994. Many believe that the murder was a set up. Here’s what claims to be a first hand account of the incident:

“My name’s Robert, and I was just released from C.C.I in Portage WI. I was in there when he (Jeffrey Dahmer) was. I was in unit 5, and he was in the smurf unit which is now called unit 6. I was working in the gym the day he was killed, and let me tell you, he was dead way before he ever left the prison. After he was beaten, it took the nurse over 40 min to get some outside help in there. I even remember an officer saying he was glad Dahmer got "fucked up.” He was also beaten with a preacher bar, not a broom. That’s the reason we don’t have free weights no more in Wisconsin prisons. I’ll also tell you this, I believe his death was an inside job, because in the gym where the officers stay, they can see into the locker room, and when we would clean, there would have to be at least one officer watching us. That day, all 4 officers where in the bathroom!!!! After Chris killed him and the other guy, he just walked back to his room and locked himself in. They didn’t even come to get him out of his room until the next day!!!! That’s when they brought him to ds1 and out of nowhere, this broke bastard who could never buy anything off of canteen, had $100.00 pop up on his account. And this is the best part. The officers that were working in the gym that day retired a few months later. And they were only in their 40’s.“ Written in October of 2004.

*CREDIT- What you just read can be found on the Find A Death website.

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This headstone is making the rounds, but it’s not real.

Jeff was arrested in July of 1991, he’d murdered 17 young men. Several of the bodies were found inside his Milwaukee apartment, he did practice cannibalism and necrophilia.

1994- While in prison Jeffrey was beaten to death by a fellow inmate named Christopher Scarver. The killer was not buried- his parents disagreed on what should be done with his remains. Honestly it it would be surprising if Jeff’s divorced parents, Lionel Dahmer and Joyce Flint, ever agreed on anything. Joyce wanted Jeff’s brains to be studied, maybe there was some sort of abnormality which would explain things. So his brains were separated from his corpse and preserved in formaldehyde. But Lionel wanted all of his son’s remains to be cremated- which is what he claimed Jeff wanted. There was a court battle, and the judge sided with Lionel. All of Jeffrey was cremated and the ashes divided among Jeff’s battling parents.

As far as i know Jeffrey was not buried, but if he was I’m fairly certain his headstone didn’t include the title “Serial Killer”. Js.

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Karen Greenlee: The Unapologetic Necrophile

So this here is my favorite necrophiliac, self professed “morgue-rat” Karen Greenlee. She’s a strange one, but such an interesting study – check her out!

According to Karen, necrophilia is more common than we like to think, and it is a very real problem in funeral homes. Most necros aren’t killers, they have no desire at all to end anyone’s life; as Queen sang, they just want “some body to love”. And that is precisely the deal with Karen Greenlee, the woman who became famous for her romantic love of corpses.

Karen realized as a young girl that she was sexually attracted to the dead. So, she did what she needed to do in order to gain access to the cute young dead boys: she began a career working in the morgue as an apprentice embalmer. Karen admits to having been busted doing the nasty with a stiff more than once, but since nobody wants to put grandma in the funeral home where that girl was busted for bumping uglies with the dead, her bosses always turned the other way. She claims to have been intimate with as many as 40 stiffs at the time of her interview, and she was very adamant that she’s not the only one doing it.

Karen was just 22 when she was finally busted. In 1979 she stole the corpse of a particularly good looking young man instead of delivering him to the cemetery. Karen took 33 year old John Mercure to the next county over and did everything that she wanted to with him. Two days later, she wrote an in depth suicide letter confessing to all of her sins, swallowed a boat load of Tylenol 3, and waited for lights out. Karen’s plan didn’t go the way she wanted, the pesky cops caught her and saved her life. And that was it, everyone knew what Karen had been up to. Charges were pressed; Karen received 11 days in jail and a fine of $255, mostly for stealing the hearse as Cali didn’t have laws against necrophilia at the time, and she owed $117, 000. to her dead lover’s mama.

I’ll add the best parts from the interview Karen gave with Jim Morton, and I’ll site the link below. She’s very candid, though she later said she absolutely regrets talking publicly on the subject because, as you can imagine, she’s caught a lot of slack over it. Today, Karen is in her 60’s, she has changed her name, and virtually disappeared. But old habits die hard; you never know, Karen may very well be sneaking into a funeral home near you!

“When you’re on top of a body it tends to purge blood out of its mouth, while you’re making passionate love .. You’d have to be there, I guess.“

When asked about how a person goes about doing the deed with a stiff, Karen had this to say: “Yes, that’s the question! People ask questions like that– even people who seem pretty cool, seem to have open minds– then when you tell them, they say, “That’s very interesting,” then don’t want to have much to do with me. I don’t mind telling people how I do it. It doesn’t matter to me, but anyone adept sexually shouldn’t have to ask. People have this misconception that there has to be penetration for sexual gratification, which is bull! The most sensitive part of a woman is the front area anyway and that is what needs to be stimulated. Besides, there are different aspects of sexual expression: touchy-feely, 69, even holding hands. That body is just lying there, but it has what it takes to make me happy. The cold, the aura of death, the smell of death, the funereal surroundings, it all contributes.”.

When asked about sex with corpses since the AIDS virus became an issue: “That’s the reason I haven’t tried anything lately. I’m sure I’d have found a way to get into one of those funeral homes by now, but the group I find attractive– young men in their twenties– are the ones who are dying of AIDS.”.

Karen was asked to speak about when she first realized she was attracted to corpses: “It’s something I’ve been attracted to all my life. I used to hold funeral services for my pets when they died. Had a little pet graveyard. I lived in a small town and the fireman’s barbecue was next door to the funeral home. To go to the bathroom you had to use the facilities in the funeral home. I’d find any excuse I could to go to the bathroom, then I’d take side trips and wander around the mortuary.”.

About getting caught doing the nasty with a rotter: “I had tried to kill myself and was living in a halfway house a couple of blocks up from this funeral home. I decided to go to the mausoleum and try and kill myself again. The mausoleum had a door connecting it to the mortuary. I was sitting in there, real depressed, when, just for the hell of it, I decided to try running my driver’s license along the edge of the door and click! the door popped open. I couldn’t believe it, so I tried it again and the door popped open again! I went into the prep room and there happened to be a body in there. I had me some fun, did my thing and forgot all about killing myself. I told the folks at the halfway house that I stayed the night with friends. I went in there several times. Sometimes there were absolutely no bodies, so I turned around and snuck back out. I usually went in the back door. About a week later I snuck back into the funeral home. I was on the prep table having a good old time, when all of a sudden I felt like there was somebody nearby. Next thing, I heard people walking down the hallway. I quietly jumped off the table and threw the sheet back over the body. My clothes were in quite a state of disarray, and I had blood on me and everything else– it had been an autopsy case. There was a casket with the lid open in the side casket-room, so I ran and hid behind it. The casket was on a church-truck so they couldn’t see me, but they could see my legs. It was a man and a woman. There were standing there saying, “Who are you? What are you doing here?” One of them said to the other, “you go get the gun and call the cops and I’ll stay down here.” I knew I only had one chance then, so I busted out and ran. I knew the layout of the place, so I just ran down the hall and out of the place and out of the cemetery. At the time I still had a friend who worked at the funeral home. He said, “Somebody broke into the funeral home. They know it was you.” They put in an alarm after that. I think they called the police, but there were never any charges. I’m sure they didn’t want the publicity.”

Finally, this is what Karen had this to say about the corpse she stole: “That happened at the time I was breaking into this funeral homes. There was a side room, one of those arrangement areas, where they always have their case folders out. I read there was an exhumation order for John Mercure. Then I read something in the paper about it. His mother wanted the body exhumed, said she wouldn’t bury her cat there. On the day he was suppose to be exhumed I snuck out into a field across from where he was buried. I sat out in the field and watched them dig up the body and give him to this other mortician. They shipped him back to Michigan.”

A link to the rest of the interview: http://www.cvltnation.com/the-unrepentant-necrophile/

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Theresa Knorr – The Worst Mother In The World

Sacramento, California-

Theresa Cross Knorr’s mother passed away from a heart attack when the girl was only 15, and her father had Parkinson’s disease. She dropped out of school and married her first husband, Clifford Sanders, at the tender age of 16. In 1964 Clifford decided to leave his pregnant wife, she’d been too promiscuous for his liking. As the man was walking towards the door, Theresa shot and killed him; she claimed it was self defense, and this was how the killer got away with her first murder.

We can’t say that the boys weren’t abused, because they were. The kids were beaten with a board, repeatedly burnt with cigarettes, and used as human dart boards with knives thrown at them. They were subjected to manual labor out in the sun for days on end, and purposely denied the right to sleep. More than once child protective services were called, but nothing was ever done to save these kids. Still, the boys didn’t suffer anywhere near as much as their female siblings. The oldest son, Howard, couldn’t stand living in that house, nor the torture inflicted upon his sisters at the hands of their mother. He left, and that’s when things really went to hell for the girls. One by one they were forced into prostitution, and eventually two of the girls lost their lives.... To read more, and see the crime scene photos, click the link below.

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The Lotto Winner’s Demise

Abraham Shakespeare was an all around good man. He had an enormous heart, cared about people, and would give you the shirt off his back. Since he didn’t have any evil in him, Abraham had a difficult time seeing the bad in others; the man naïvely trusted people, and this is what would cost him his life.

Abraham grew up underprivileged in Plant City, Florida; he hadn’t received the best of educations, and unfortunately never learned to read. As an adult he obtained a job working for a trucking company making just $8 per hour. He lived with his mama and other family members, they pulled their money together in an effort to live a decent life.In 2006 Abraham purchased a $20.00 scratch off and bam, just like that his life was transformed. He hit the jackpot for 31 million, though he chose a lump payout of 17 mil. He bought a big, beautiful new home, and helped everyone in his family get on their feet. Before long this big hearted man was running low on money; it seemed that everyone he’d ever met came out of the woodwork to beg for cash, and Abraham had a really difficult time telling anyone no. He even sent some inmates he’d never met some money after they wrote letters asking for heilp.

Abraham had been out with his cousin when he was introduced to a woman named Dorice “Dee Dee” Moore. She claimed to be a Nurse’s aid, life coach, and a writer – and now she wanted nothing more than to write a book about Abraham. He hired DeeDee; when she said she needed a house so she would have a place to write her book, Abraham bought her one. When DeeDee heard about Abraham’s money problems and his inability to say no to those who asked for help, she said that she could help with this. If Abraham were to place the cash in DeeDee’s business account, he could honestly tell people that he couldn’t give them any money as he wouldn’t have any access to it. Being a manipulative con artist, DeeDee somehow talked Abraham into thinking this was a good idea.

Abraham had always wanted to travel, he’d told everyone he knew that he was going to see the world. So when Abraham stopped contacting the people in his life, DeeDee told everyone that’s what he had decided to travel. Considering everyone in his life owed him money, many were just happy that he was gone. But Abraham’s close family knew that something was wrong, and mama demanded DeeDee put her in contact with her son.

Suddenly Abraham began contacting his mama only through text, and his grammar was perfect. Mama knew right off the bat that this wasn’t right, and she said so. Finally she got a brief call from a man who claimed to be her son, he stated that he was having a great time seeing the world.

Meanwhile DeeDee’s finances had changed drastically. She was suddenly living large; the woman had purchased beautiful property, was now driving expensive new cars, and she even had the gall to take over Abraham’s multi-million dollar home as if it were her own.

When others who were close to Abraham saw this, they demanded to speak with the missing man; at this point DeeDee told them that Abraham had contracted the AIDS virus and that he was in another country receiving treatment. Finally she stated that Abraham had died of AIDS.

Police realized that something wasn’t right. They found out that Dee Dee had talked Abraham’s friend, a barbershop owner named Greg Smith, into calling his mother in exchange for a few hundred dollars cash. Greg had been feeling guilty about having placed that phone call; at the time Dee Dee had convinced him that Abraham truly was fine, and he believed that he would be home soon. The call was made to bring his friend’s mother’s little peace of mind.

When Greg realized that something was really wrong, that his good friend who had given him the more than 60K to save his house might not be okay, he made the decision to work with the police. Greg wore a wire as he cozied up to the con artist; DeeDee grew so comfortable with him that she showed him exactly where Abraham was: the man was buried in her boyfriend’s back yard beneath a concrete slab. She told Greg that drug dealers who owed Abraham money had killed him, though she’d been searching for someone else to take the blame for Abraham’s murder. Dee Dee had even attempted to talk her own father into taking the fall.

Less than 3 years after Abraham became rich, the 43 year old was shot to death by someone he trusted. It’s believed that he was shot after confronting DeeDee about the scam she’d been running on him. He was missing for approximately 9 months.

In April of 2009 Dee Dee was sentenced to life with no parole. She maintains her innocence, she swears she was set up – the real killer was the man who’d worked with police to bring her down. It’s difficult to understand why some people continue to lie about their crimes. There’s little doubt as to Dee Dee’s guilt.

Just a side note: A woman who Abraham had a child with, named Antoinette Andrews, has since won the lotto as well. She hit the million dollar jackpot. Considering how the odds of winning big are stacked against us, this is really incredible. Because of what happened to her ex, Antoinette did mention being a little afraid to have come into a large chunk of money like this.

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Barbara Jane Mackle had grown up in a very well to-do home. Her father, Robert, was a successful land developer on Marco Island, Florida. As everyone from the state will tell you, Marco is big money; the area is often the home of celebrities and the uber wealthy. Barbara had never wanted for anything, but she’d always been a good girl, and definitely the apple of her her father’s eye...

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The Kunz family lived near the itty bitty town of Athens, and its safe to say that they were a bit odd. The family consisted of six: there were 4 siblings, Clarence, 76, Irene, 81, Helen, 70, Marie, 72, and Helen’s 2 adult sons, Randy and Kenneth. They lived together in this tiny rundown farm house in the woods – well, most of them. Kenneth lived in a little trailer next to the house on the family’s 108 acre property. They were a family of severe hermits; those living nearby knew next to nothing of the reclusive family, many weren’t even aware of their existence at all. Kenny was a bit better socialized than the others, he worked at a local mill (nobody else in the family ever held a job or even left the property) and sometimes went out for drinks. That said, he was still painfully shy and very socially awkward…

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Lake Shawnee Amusement Park

Mitchell Clay and his 13 children found some land and decided to build their home there. People familiar with this slice of history say that he truly may not have realized that his new land had been a Shawnee Native American trading post and burial ground; Mitchell may have honestly believed he was the first person there. Either way, this was a deadly mistake, the Shawnee were not happy that their sacred grounds were suddenly inhabited. They quickly decided to do something about it, and Mitchell’s children would pay the price...

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I’m sorry I’ve been inactive, I’m having a really difficult time since my brother passed. We just got the autopsy back and it’s proved that my brother died from a head injury as a result of my family jumping him. Those of you who have followed me on insta or Facebook may remember when my uncle Willy jumped him; he and three others beat him with a bicycle chain, then he and his sons left my brother for dead. He was in ICU for a long time, and this left him with 4 brain hemorrhages. Then, about 4 months ago after my brother had moved to Kentucky, my aunt got mad at Jeremy for arguing with her adult daughter, and in order to get back at my brother she told a bunch of lies to her female roommate. My favorite Aunt invited my brother over, and they jumped him. Because the roommate was a woman, my brother did not fight back. He’s a boxer, never lost a one on one fight in his life, but he would not hit a woman; I can’t tell you how many times he’s been hit by a girlfriend, he never would fight back; he always just called his big sister to come deal with these women - and I happily obliged. He watched our mama be beaten by men as a child, and there’s nothing he hated more than a man who raised his hand to a woman. So, on that night my aunt held him down while her female roommate and roommate’s teenaged son stomped my already sick brother in the head. My aunt Betty Lou knew all of Jeremy’s health issues, but she did this anyways - and she admitted she held him down right after it happened. I can prove it, there were text messages. That is what killed my brother, my family murdered my only sibling. I’m having a very difficult time processing this, that people I have loved so dearly my entire life have taken my only sibling away from me. I don’t know how to deal with it. I could tell you what I want to do, what I feel like doing, but I have four children who need me with them and not in prison. I’ve lost a lot of people in my life, the most important people in my life are dead - everyone aside from my mom, husband, and my 4 born children, but I’ve never grieved this way before. I can’t eat (I feel guilty eating, I’m actually wearing a bikini for the first time in ten years) can’t sleep, can’t think well enough to write let alone research and retain anything I’ve read; I’m just filled with pain and anger. Yes, I’m searching for therapy, affordable therapy; I know I need help getting through this, and possibly even medication. No, I am not giving up writing, this account is not dead, I’m just trying to work things out in my head. Please bear with me, and if I do post and you notice it’s a repeat, please forgive me 🤍 If you’re the praying type, or could send good vibes, whatever you got, please do - for my peace of mind. Thank you. * I’m adding a photo of my tribute tattoo, I can’t remember if I posted it here. It says RIP BROTHER.

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On the morning of June 18th of 2014 Justin Ross Harris strapped his 22 month old son, Cooper, into the back seat of his Hyundai Tucson and headed off to work. Ross stopped at a fast food restaurant for breakfast, he quickly went inside for a bite to eat with his son. When they were done, Ross strapped Cooper back into his car seat and they were on the road again. The father was supposed to drop little Cooper off at daycare, but he didn’t; Ross drove straight to work at Home Depot Headquarters instead, pulling in at exactly 9:25 am...