
Another murder, a secret romance, dismembered corpses and a serial killer who wouldn’t be born until decades later. Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan have taken one of America’s most infamous unsolved murder cases and given it a spectacularly bloody makeover in Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story. But behind the outrageous twists lies a real double murder that remains unsolved more than 130 years later. So, just how much of Netflix’s latest true-crime drama actually happened?
The red curtain that opens the series tells us plenty about what’s coming: a theatrical interpretation, not a straightforward reconstruction of history. Starring Ella Beatty as Lizzie Borden, who was accused of murdering her father and stepmother with a hatchet in 1892, the fourth season of Monster embraces speculation, dark comedy and Murphy’s taste for extravagance. Speaking to TheWrap, Brennan acknowledged the gaps in the historical record, describing the writers’ interpretation as “less of a flight of fancy than a hunch” about what happened inside the Borden household.
It’s an approach that has once again divided opinion. Previous Monster seasons examining Jeffrey Dahmer and the Menendez brothers prompted objections from victims’ relatives and surviving family members. This time, The Guardian’s Lucy Mangan argued that the series has “nothing to say about Borden, the times that shaped her”, criticising its fixation on menstruation and graphic spectacle. And there’s an especially interesting complication here: the real Lizzie was acquitted of murder. With that distinction firmly in mind, we’re examining ten of the show’s wildest creative choices, their historical origins and just how far this particular telling takes them.
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WARNING: Major spoilers for Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story follow.
1. Lizzie Commits Another Murder That Was Historically Impossible

Before Lizzie and Bridget turn their attention to the Borden household, Monster gives them another target: Bertha Manchester (Linda Reiter), a woman who subjects Bridget to particularly vicious mistreatment while employing her as a maid. When Lizzie discovers that Bertha has been whipping her lover, she decides to intervene. With a hatchet.
While Bertha’s murder might sound completely invented, Manchester was a real person who suffered a similarly horrific death. The problem? Lizzie was already behind bars when the real murder occurred.
On May 30, 1893, the 22-year-old was discovered dead in her family’s farmhouse in Fall River, Massachusetts, having suffered more than 20 blows to the head with an axe. Her murder occurred almost ten months AFTER Andrew and Abby Borden were killed, at a time when Lizzie was in custody awaiting trial.
José Correa de Mello, an Azorean immigrant who had previously worked for Manchester’s father, was convicted of the murder. He claimed that Bertha had attacked him first and that he’d acted in self-defence. Sentenced to life imprisonment, he was released in January 1914 after serving 21 years and subsequently deported to the Azores.
The series takes an actual murder, rewrites the timeline and turns another real victim into part of its fictional killing spree. But there’s another intriguing detail. According to the Fall River Historical Society, the timing of Manchester’s death raises the possibility that another axe killing in the same city might have influenced Lizzie’s jury. No interviewed juror mentioned the case, although that doesn’t entirely rule out the possibility that it was discussed.
2. Lizzie and Bridget’s Secret Romance Becomes a Murderous Partnership

Vicky Krieps’ Bridget Sullivan, better known as Maggie, is considerably more than the Borden family’s maid. She’s Lizzie’s confidante, lover and eventual partner in a conspiracy that leaves two people dead.
The real Bridget was an Irish immigrant who began working for the family in 1889. She was also present at the property when Andrew and Abby were murdered, making her an important witness in the subsequent investigation.
According to her testimony, Bridget spent the morning washing windows before going upstairs to her attic bedroom to rest. Lizzie later called her downstairs after discovering Andrew’s body. Bridget was never charged, and there’s no documented evidence that the women were romantically involved or that she helped carry out the murders.
The romantic theory isn’t new, however. Evan Hunter explored it in his 1984 novel Lizzie, while the 2018 film of the same name, starring Chloë Sevigny and Kristen Stewart, incorporated a similar relationship. Questions about Lizzie’s sexuality have also persisted because of her later friendship with actress Nance O’Neil.
As detailed in People’s examination of the historical case, the real Bridget’s account of her movements differs considerably from the elaborate conspiracy depicted on screen. One revealing detail about the household is that Lizzie apparently called Bridget “Maggie”, the name of a previous servant.
Whatever their actual relationship, the surviving evidence offers nothing approaching the murderous romance that forms the foundation of Monster’s central story.
3. Andrew Borden’s Coffin Business Takes a Particularly Gruesome Turn

Charlie Hunnam’s Andrew Borden is an unpleasant enough character without his rather disturbing approach to coffin-making. Among the show’s more grotesque sequences are scenes involving Andrew dismembering corpses so they’ll fit inside his products.
The coffin business itself is genuine. The corpse mutilation? Not so much.
Andrew established a furniture and undertaking business with William Almy in 1844. Their company manufactured and sold furniture and coffins, while also providing funeral services. An 1859 newspaper advertisement even promoted the firm’s selection of ready-made burial cases.
But there’s no historical evidence that Andrew mutilated corpses to make them fit inside his coffins.
He’d also moved well beyond coffin-making by the time of his death. Andrew retired from the business in 1878 and continued building his fortune through investments in banks, textile mills and property.
His considerable wealth, reputation for frugality and documented family disagreements over property have long featured in theories about possible motives for the murders. But while genuine tensions existed within the household, the extent of the cruelty and abuse attributed to Andrew in the series isn’t established by the surviving evidence.
The production instead creates a far more monstrous patriarch, complete with professional practices that wouldn’t look out of place in one of Murphy’s horror productions.
4. Abby Slaughters Lizzie’s Beloved Birds, but the Real Story Points to Her Father

Few things are likely to provoke a character’s desire for revenge quite like the killing of their beloved pets. In Monster, Rebecca Hall’s Abby Borden loses patience with Lizzie’s noisy doves and slaughters them, devastating her stepdaughter and adding another grievance to their increasingly hostile relationship.
Surprisingly, there’s a genuine historical incident behind the sequence. It’s just been given a substantial makeover.
During her August 1892 inquest, Lizzie testified that her father had killed pigeons in the family’s barn a few months before the murders. According to her surviving testimony, Andrew killed the birds in May or June, and several had been brought into the house with their heads removed. Lizzie believed he’d twisted their necks, although she hadn’t witnessed the killings herself and couldn’t say precisely how they’d been killed.
The incident arose when investigators asked whether Lizzie could explain how an axe or hatchet might have become bloodied.
Whether the birds’ deaths caused Lizzie significant emotional distress is less certain. The incident has frequently featured in historical interpretations of the case, but the evidence doesn’t establish that it contributed to a desire for revenge.
The series transfers responsibility to Abby and turns the slaughter into an important grievance, supplying its fictional Lizzie with another reason to hate her stepmother.
5. Lizzie’s Extreme Menstrual Problems Are Largely Invented

One thing nobody can accuse Monster of doing is shying away from bodily fluids.
Lizzie’s unusually heavy and painful periods occupy a substantial amount of the early episodes, causing her considerable distress and provoking further hostility from Abby. Bridget eventually attempts to help her, concluding that Lizzie has an imperforate hymen, a rare medical condition in which tissue completely covers the vaginal opening.
It’s another opportunity for the production to explore Victorian repression while indulging in some particularly uncomfortable body horror.
However, there’s no established historical evidence that Lizzie suffered from the condition or experienced the extreme symptoms depicted on screen.
Menstruation did play an intriguing role in the actual murder investigation, although in very different circumstances. As detailed in People’s historical fact-check, police discovered bloodied cloths in a bucket in the Borden household. Lizzie explained that she’d been menstruating, and the family doctor subsequently supported her account.
Investigators accepted the explanation without further examination. The real incident provides a historical starting point, but the elaborate medical storyline belongs to the writers’ imagination.
6. The Disastrous Oyster Dinner Wasn’t a Proven Murder Attempt
Before resorting to hatchets, Lizzie and Bridget attempt a considerably less direct method of disposing of Andrew and Abby: a particularly nasty case of food poisoning.
Their plan involves serving the couple spoiled oysters, producing an extraordinarily unpleasant dinner and some spectacularly excessive projectile vomiting. Unfortunately for the would-be killers, neither intended victim dies.
The real Borden household did experience a bout of illness shortly before the murders. Several family members suffered stomach complaints, with Abby becoming concerned enough to consult their doctor and suggest that someone might have poisoned them.
The doctor wasn’t convinced, and spoiled food was among the possible explanations. There’s no established evidence that the illness resulted from deliberate poisoning.
Adding to the intrigue, pharmacist Eli Bence subsequently claimed that Lizzie had attempted to purchase prussic acid, a highly poisonous substance, the day before the murders. According to his account, she said she wanted to use it on a sealskin cape.
As detailed in Douglas O. Linder’s account of the trial, Bence refused to sell her the poison, and his testimony was later ruled inadmissible.
The real illness and the pharmacist’s allegation provide fertile ground for the writers’ interpretation. Monster combines them into an elaborate assassination attempt, complete with a dining-room disaster that leaves very little to the imagination.
7. Nance O’Neil Becomes Lizzie’s Acting Coach More Than a Decade Too Early

How do you convince a jury you’re innocent when you’ve just been portrayed committing multiple murders? According to Monster, you take acting lessons.
Jessica Barden’s Nance O’Neil, a successful theatre actress, becomes Lizzie’s friend and teaches her how to perform for the courtroom. It’s a thoroughly theatrical concept: a woman accused of an extraordinary crime preparing to deliver the performance of her life.
There’s just one problem with the timeline. O’Neil was a real actress who became closely associated with Lizzie, but their friendship began around 1904, more than a decade after the murder trial.
The pair reportedly bonded over their shared enthusiasm for theatre, with Lizzie becoming a supporter of O’Neil’s career. As explored by Vanity Fair, their friendship attracted considerable attention and contributed to speculation about Lizzie’s sexuality, although its precise nature remains uncertain.
In reality, Lizzie’s courtroom strategy was handled by an experienced legal team that included former Massachusetts governor George D. Robinson.
Interestingly, Brennan has explained why the writers moved O’Neil into the trial storyline. Speaking to Netflix’s Tudum, he admitted that courtroom episodes are particularly difficult to dramatise. Discovering that Lizzie had genuinely befriended an actress “suddenly really activated it for us.”
Rather than inventing O’Neil, the writers borrowed a fascinating relationship from Lizzie’s later life and repositioned it to serve their version of the murder trial.
8. Emma Turns Against Lizzie Much More Violently Than History Suggests
Played by Billie Lourd, Lizzie’s older sister Emma has plenty to contend with in Monster. As her suspicions about Lizzie grow, their relationship deteriorates into accusations and physical violence. Emma even destroys her sister’s beloved cherry trees, leaving little doubt about just how badly their relationship has collapsed.
The real sisters did become estranged, but the historical story is considerably different.
Emma assumed something of a maternal role following the death of their biological mother in 1863. When Lizzie was accused of murdering Andrew and Abby, Emma supported her throughout the investigation and trial, maintaining her belief in her younger sister’s innocence.
After the acquittal, the pair purchased Maplecroft, a large house in one of Fall River’s more fashionable neighbourhoods. They continued living together for more than a decade, despite the public suspicion that followed Lizzie.
Their relationship eventually deteriorated around 1904 and 1905, with reports suggesting that Emma disapproved of Lizzie’s increasingly active social life and her friendship with actress Nance O’Neil.
As detailed in People’s examination of the sisters’ estrangement, Emma moved out in 1905, and the pair apparently never reconciled. The precise circumstances of their falling-out remain uncertain, although Emma later indicated that life at Maplecroft had become intolerable.
There’s no established evidence that she physically attacked Lizzie, destroyed her cherry trees or openly accused her of murdering their parents. Having survived an extraordinary murder trial together, the sisters spent the final decades of their lives apart.
9. Elizabeth Báthory and Aileen Wuornos Enter Lizzie’s Bloody World

Just when Monster seems to have exhausted the possibilities of nineteenth-century Massachusetts, it decides that one notorious accused murderer isn’t nearly enough.
Enter Elizabeth Báthory and Aileen Wuornos, two women whose stories allow the series to extend its exploration of violence across several centuries.
Báthory, a Hungarian noblewoman accused of torturing and murdering numerous young women during the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, appears in the gruesome stories Bridget tells Lizzie. Krieps also portrays Báthory in elaborate flashbacks, including sequences inspired by the infamous legend that she bathed in the blood of virgins.
That particular claim is itself historically questionable, having emerged long after Báthory’s death. There’s also no documented evidence that Bridget introduced Lizzie to her story.
The series then jumps forward almost a century to Aileen Wuornos, played by Sarah Paulson. Wuornos killed seven men in Florida between 1989 and 1990, was convicted of six murders and was executed in 2002.
In Monster, she’s fascinated by Lizzie’s crimes and even visits the former Borden family home with her girlfriend. There’s no documented evidence that Wuornos admired or felt any particular connection to Lizzie. And her visit to the house as a bed-and-breakfast guest presents another substantial problem.
The property didn’t open as a bed and breakfast until August 1996, as reported by the Los Angeles Times at the time. By then, Wuornos was already in prison under sentence of death, making the visit impossible as depicted.
In his interview with TheWrap, Brennan explained that connecting the three women allowed the writers to explore what he described as a “thin thread of female rage” running through history.
Their stories eventually converge in a supernatural finale, with Lizzie and Bridget welcoming Wuornos into the afterlife. It’s perhaps the clearest expression of the series’ approach: three very different historical figures connected through an imagined legacy of violence and repression.
10. The Series Solves a Murder Mystery That Remains Unsolved

For all its invented relationships, additional murders and supernatural detours, Monster makes its most consequential creative decision when it comes to the central question of the Borden case: who actually killed Andrew and Abby?
The series doesn’t leave much room for doubt. Lizzie and Bridget conspire to murder the couple and participate in the attacks, with the killings presented as the culmination of years of humiliation, resentment and repression.
The historical evidence is considerably less conclusive. On August 4, 1892, Abby was discovered dead in an upstairs guest bedroom, having suffered 19 blows. Andrew was found on a sitting-room sofa, where he’d been struck 11 times. Investigators believed Abby had been killed first, with approximately 90 minutes separating the deaths.
Lizzie quickly became the principal suspect. She’d been at the property that morning, gave inconsistent accounts of her movements, and a witness testified that she’d seen Lizzie burning a dress several days after the murders. Her defence maintained that the garment had been stained with paint.
But prosecutors struggled to establish exactly how the killings had been committed. Lizzie’s inquest testimony and the alleged attempt to purchase poison were excluded from the trial, while the defence highlighted the lack of physical evidence connecting her to the murders.
Some of the most extraordinary courtroom details depicted in the series really happened, including the presentation of the victims’ skulls during the proceedings.
On June 20, 1893, an all-male jury acquitted Lizzie. She maintained her innocence for the remainder of her life, and nobody else was ever convicted.
Brennan has described the writers’ interpretation as an attempt to fill the gaps in the surviving evidence, imagining not only what might have happened but what life inside the Borden household might have felt like. The series supplies its own elaborate answer to a question that historians have debated for generations.
The real identity of Andrew and Abby Borden’s killer, or killers, remains unknown.
Where Does the Real Lizzie Borden End and ‘Monster’ Begin?
That opening red curtain ultimately tells us plenty about what follows. Murphy and Brennan have constructed their own version of the Borden case, borrowing from genuine events, rearranging timelines and inventing relationships to explore the themes that interest them. It’s an approach that continues to fuel debate around Monster, particularly when real people are given fictional crimes and motivations.
Netflix’s series has no shortage of answers about what happened inside the Borden household. The historical record is considerably less obliging, leaving one of America’s most notorious criminal mysteries unsolved more than 130 years later.
Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story is now streaming on Netflix.
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