Disclaimer: Some events in this story are true. I did research before I wrote this story. This is just what I think might have happened.

1833

“This is a grand party, Madame. Your house is so lovely. How do you keep it so clean and lively?” Effie Mae Davidson asked.

“I have a whole team of slaves doing my every whim. I make them work exceptionally hard,” answered Delphine LaLaurie, owner of the mansion. She was a very nice woman, on the outside.

Once the social party ended, and all the guests had left the house, all hell broke loose. Delphine would start acting out of her demeanor. She would extract the whip that she had hidden under her dress. When she was by the nearest slave, she would unleash her fury.

“Nigger! Clean this mayhem up.” She would raise her hand, and crack the whip across the slave’s exposed skin. The unfortunate, would crash to the floor with blood running down their legs. They want to cry out from the pain, but they know the Madame would punish them more.

Delphine was never satisfied with the work her slaves did. To her, they would always screw some order up. And if they did it right, she would look for a flaw just so she could mistreat them.

Right now she was furious. Her party turned out to be a hit with the entire town. But it was the information that she found out tonight, that had her in a mood. She had her that her husband, Dr. Louise LaLaurie, might be having an affair with one of the head nurses at the hospital where he worked.

“Get up nigger!” Delphine hissed as she whipped the slave again. The slave, Harriet, tried her hardest to move away from her tormentor, but not fast enough. Delphine with one quick move tied her whip around Harriet’s wrists. Still holding the end of the whip, she drug Harriet behind her, all the way up to the attic.

Once in the attic, Delphine locked the door shut behind her. She didn’t want to be disturbed while she worked her magic. For a small woman, she had quite a bit of strength and anger, all bottled up insider of herself.

She locked Harriet’s feet into a pair of shackles that were attached the wall. She then ripped the dress off of Harriet. Revealing still healing whip marks. Of coarse the sight of them put a smile on Delphine’s face. She walked over to a table that held an assortment of tools and jars. She picked up a jar with solid brown objects.

Harriet tried her best to keep her mouth shut, but Delphine pried them open. In one hand she held Harriet’s tongue. In the other handful of animal feces that were in the jar. Delphine shoved the feces in Harriet’s mouth. She retrieved some thread and a needle that she stuck in the sleeve of her dress.

Harriet let out a blood curdling scream, but only to be silences when Delphine pinched her mouth shut with a strong hand. Tears were running down Harriet’s face as Delphine impaled the needle through her lips.

While working on one of her “artworks”, Delphine looked content. This was probably the only time she was truly happy. Her eyes shone a hint of amusement as Harriet whimpered and cried. But her smile belonged to that of the devil.

Why was Delphine doing all this? Was it because of her husband? The only known fact, is that this is only one of her many “artworks”