TheLimey
Governor
What do you do when you find someone snuck back into your torture museum? Give them a very personal tour!
Chapter 1
If pressed on the matter, John would admit that his museum was less than historical. He would counter that there were plenty of other establishments around the world with similar themes, and all of them were more entertainment than informational.
He'd found the location a couple of months after he moved to the Rock. He'd looked in local records, and apparently it used to be an old merchant house, with living quarters at the top, his trading area on the ground floor, and below, an extensive network of storage rooms, dug into the rock itself. It was in disrepair when he found it, and he bought it for a song, living in the space whilst he worked on it.
Now it was the Gibraltar Gaol. A museum of torture and imprisonment, in the days of the Spanish Inquisition. He'd built a lot of the furniture himself, used local smiths for the metalwork, even found some antique pieces, though they tended to be rather later than the days of the Inquisition. Now the ground floor was the entrance way, the gift shop, and his office. Upstairs was his own living space, and the old storage rooms the museum itself, transformed into a series of cells, through which he would guide his guests.
He did a good trade with the cruise ship passengers, often running two or three groups through the museum when the ships were in, so he generally didn't bothering opening unless there was a ship in the port.
He was sat in his office that morning, having an early coffee. Two ship in the port, and three tours booked. He'd already checked the exhibits, and was just waiting for 10am, when the first group would be arriving, when there was a knock at the door to the museum.
'A bit early..' he said to himself, but he went over to open up, getting himself ready to run through the script.
Chapter 1
If pressed on the matter, John would admit that his museum was less than historical. He would counter that there were plenty of other establishments around the world with similar themes, and all of them were more entertainment than informational.
He'd found the location a couple of months after he moved to the Rock. He'd looked in local records, and apparently it used to be an old merchant house, with living quarters at the top, his trading area on the ground floor, and below, an extensive network of storage rooms, dug into the rock itself. It was in disrepair when he found it, and he bought it for a song, living in the space whilst he worked on it.
Now it was the Gibraltar Gaol. A museum of torture and imprisonment, in the days of the Spanish Inquisition. He'd built a lot of the furniture himself, used local smiths for the metalwork, even found some antique pieces, though they tended to be rather later than the days of the Inquisition. Now the ground floor was the entrance way, the gift shop, and his office. Upstairs was his own living space, and the old storage rooms the museum itself, transformed into a series of cells, through which he would guide his guests.
He did a good trade with the cruise ship passengers, often running two or three groups through the museum when the ships were in, so he generally didn't bothering opening unless there was a ship in the port.
He was sat in his office that morning, having an early coffee. Two ship in the port, and three tours booked. He'd already checked the exhibits, and was just waiting for 10am, when the first group would be arriving, when there was a knock at the door to the museum.
'A bit early..' he said to himself, but he went over to open up, getting himself ready to run through the script.
