April 29th 1612.
I can hear the rats scampering around the periphery and the hidden passages of the castle. The weather is warmer outside and I think I can hear the snow begin to melt early this year. My daughters have not written in a while, but I know that is because they are so busy negotiating for me. The blood has stopped coming and the meat is less frequent. I long for my research and for soft young flesh……
July 6th 1613
The days have gone past their longest point and I believe we are in mid-summer. I spend my days writing prose and coming up with theories for Valgt. Not long left now, especially as my supplies are dwindling. I am running out of ink and wood logs, which I am certain is an oversight.
The castle is empty and silent and all I hear are the guard’s steps as he shuffles his feet on the stone outside my door. I’ve asked him for information pertaining to my case but he won't answer me. Pompous little shit! When I am free he will be the first to be sacked and then I’ll find him and drink him. I might be in prison but I am still the Countess! Low born scum, all of them who put me in here! When I am free they can be certain I will go after each and every one of those so-called witnesses of the Crown and I will make them pay! Their deaths will be slow and painful.
August 17th 1614.
Last night I dreamt I drank blood, real fresh human blood. The dream was so vivid that I could still taste it in my mouth and on my lips when I woke.
What is taking so long with my release? This is unacceptable for someone of my social standing! This is such a monumental insult! I have put up with this joke for too long!
I need to get back to my experiments, it is important I finish my research for Valgt. He was chosen, he is the key, he cannot die, I must cure him…
I need blood; all they give me is gruel. I need blood, I need blood, I need blood, I need blood!!! Rats taste disgusting! Maybe someone of lower birth could survive on them, but I cannot live on gruel and rats! The travesty! And this heat…
When this charade is over they will all pay for their insolence starting with the Emperor! Does he not know who I am? Where I’ve been? What I’ve lived through? His minuscule life pales in comparison to my own and just as I have survived the ravages of hell itself, so will I get out of this little boudoir! I will make my way down to Vienna where I shall ceremoniously enjoy killing and feasting on the entire palace. The Court in its entirety shall be made to march into the great Hall where I will take my time in torturing and then gutting them. The corridors will flow with the blood of my detractors and I will bathe in it. Him I will leave for last. He will be made to watch me kill every last one of his kith and kin, leaving him heirless and the Empire in disarray and then I will feast on his blood and flesh. He might be the Emperor but I am Theodora Ehefrau Von Vyktor and I will unleash my full rage on all of them!
***
The door through the secret passage was stiff and unrelenting, but eventually it gave just enough way to pass through. It was a cool day and the intruder was dressed in leather pantaloons, and a white long sleeved chemise. The smell in the room was so stifling it dried one’s throat and burnt their eyes. The Countess was in a corner mumbling and scribbling on the wall by the light of a greatly diminished candle. Two headless rats and a raven lay by the inkwell. In the other corner was an overflowing chamber pot and a few feet away several plates filled with old food, which had clearly been there for days. There was only one small opening on the wall for the exchange of food and excrement, whenever she remembered to give it to them.
The Countess was surprised to hear footsteps in her sealed prison. No one had set foot in that room beside herself in four years and she was terrified. She looked up but could not really see for it was too dark and her eyes had weakened. She held up the candle and immediately dropped it out of sheer shock. The invader stood tall and proud. Despite the male attire there was no mistaking who this was. She was different and confident; her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, its auburn color the hallmark of its owner. She produced a match from her belt, lit the almost exhausted sconces on the wall and looking down upon the disheveled Countess gave her a wry smile.
“No, no, no, no you aren’t alive. I killed you four years ago. I drank all your blood till your heart stopped. You were dead!”
“I was almost dead, Your Grace,” the mocking in her voice was reflected all over her face. “It was fortunate that Bianca knocked on the door when she did, had she delayed a moment longer then I would most certainly have been dead. Your biggest mistake was not checking my pockets when you tied me up. You see I always had the master key on me, and as you dropped me for dead I heard the clanging it made after hitting the floor. Gathering all my strength I reached the key and released myself. It was most fortunate that your other prisoner was also still alive. She provided me with the blood I needed to be revived. Ironic how one of the victims used to condemn you was not even killed by you.”
With that the Countess rose up from the ground suddenly and lunged at Kati’s face. The formerly formidable Countess, however, was no match for the young woman now. Kati’s youthful hands grabbed Báthory's feeble and aging wrists and stopped her in her tracks. Her clothes were shabby and soiled and she smelled of her own filth. Her fingers were ring-less and bony, the skin wrinkled and weathered by the imprisonment and malnourishment. The centuries had suddenly caught up to her. She felt so light and insubstantial, a grave contrast to her old self. All Kati had to do was push her back and she fell in a heap on the ground near the plates of unconsumed gruel and chamber pots of excrement.
Kati approached her and lowered herself to the ground, balancing on the fronts of her feet. “Nice little place you have here, Your Grace, I like what you’ve done with it. I am a little disappointed you weren't glad to see me though. I have so much to tell you, you won’t believe the half of it! While you’ve been rotting away these last four years, I’ve been traveling across Europe, and even spent a good long while in Vienna among other places, meeting with old acquaintances of yours.”
The Countess’s rage renewed afresh but her second assault was met with a slap to the face which returned her to the floor, head first.
Kati continued, “The most interesting thing about my travels, however, was not the fact that I got to see a whole new world, met scores of new people, or that I was exposed to culture, music and knowledge, but the fact that I found what you have been seeking for so long...” The Countess’s eyes bulged. “I thought you might find that interesting.”
The Countess lay on the floor silent, but her eyes followed Kati’s every breath.
“I was fortunate enough to find the key for prolonging the Affliction! You see you were somewhat on the right track, but your demented state did not allow you to explore all the possibilities. One day I came upon a fascinating establishment revealed to me by my nose. The smell of blood was too faint for an ordinary man, but for people like us it smelled like a cornucopia of delights; that's a new word I’ve learned, incidentally,” Kati looked down at her beaming with pride. “I won't bore you with the details at this point, but I learned so much about our kind these past four years. It turns out that the path you were on was inaccurate but not completely flawed. My new friends shared your interest in immortality and admitted they were close to a breakthrough. Over the weeks I was invited to attend experiments and observe. I was even able to offer my fresh perspective, what with all the things I'd learned from you! You see, madam, the answer was never in the pericardium at all, but in the brain. There is a small bulb in the brain of all men which holds many scientific wonders and when those of the Afflicted are consumed by another of our kind, it prolongs their lifespan beyond the average four centuries. I was present when my associate went ahead with the treatment and was transformed right before my eyes, into a stronger and younger Afflicted. It was quite the sight! I felt for you at that moment, I really did, the answer being so close and yet so far. All you had to do was eat the bulb of one of your past disciples and all your problems would
have been solved.
So there are no prizes for why I’ve come back here. I thought it extremely poetic that I need to kill one of my kind to live on, and, well, I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than you, my dearest Mother… You gave me this new lease on life, sure it was so that you could kill me in time, but I will overlook that, and now you will give me the ultimate gift, that of true eternal life! I’m certain there’s some feeling of pride inside that dead cold heart of yours about how far I have come.” Kati’s sarcasm was peppered with a little mirth, but also a little bit of pity for this once magnificent woman.
Kati caressed the Countess’s hair as a singular tear ran down Erzsébet’s face and then swiftly sank her teeth into her withered neck. In an instant the varied events of her life flashed through Kati's mind giving her more insight into this disturbed woman than all the journals ever could. The Countess pulled desperately at the girl’s hands but she could do nothing to loosen her grip. When Kati was done she carefully placed the body on the ground, extracted a long tool from her belt and with practiced skill she extracted the gland through Erzsébet’s nose. No one would be able to tell what had transpired here, it would simply look as if she’d died naturally of neglect and malnutrition, just as everyone had expected. Taking a moment, Kati regarded the gland and carefully put it in her mouth.
Walking over to the table she noticed the writings produced by the Countess. She left the most innocuous ones and took the journals which, like the others, she was going to ensure would never fall into the wrong hands.
Vampire Edifice Teazer
Hungary, December 1610
The stones and the leaves dug into her bare feet as she ran, desperately trying to put some distance between herself and Csejthe Castle. She made her way down the hill and into the forest bordering her mother’s house. She looked down at herself and realized she couldn’t arrive in her torn and bloodied clothing so she stole a chemise that had been drying on a herb bush near the stream.
She continued running right into daybreak. The light burned her eyes, smarted her skin and raised her blood pressure, but she braved it like she’d done before. She had to get to her mother’s house at all costs. Her nose bled.
It was freezing cold but she didn’t care. All she could think of was reaching her mother’s house and burying herself in her welcoming arms. She would wash up and change as soon as she was home by the fire. After almost a year of being apart she would finally be able to see her without fearing for her safety.
Reaching the house, she made a sudden stop. Her face lit up and she paused to catch her breath. It was the same, just as she’d left it. She remembered the day she’d left to go to the castle: how excited she’d been to be going off with Countess Erzsébet Báthory herself, and how grown up she’d felt, leaving home and going off to work to help her family.
She decided she wasn’t going to tell her mother everything that had happened to her. She knew how much it would hurt her knowing she’d allowed her only child to go off into the service of a mad woman. But what about the rumors? She was bound to hear gossip in the village from the others; and what about her condition? What would she say about needing blood and avoiding the daylight? She decided she was going to deal with each situation as it came along. She was sure her mother would understand. Right now all that mattered was seeing her and telling her she was well and that no one would come between them again. She was free and she was back to care for her mother; she couldn’t ask for more.
Rushing into the front room she called out, “Mama, Mama!”
She felt the immeasurable relief that the darkness offered. Morning sun always seemed to burn more, like it was filled with optimism for the day ahead. The house was empty but she could see the back door was ajar, and peering out she saw her mother hanging clothes in the garden. Bracing herself for the sun once more, she ran outside and towards the comfort of her mother who was thankfully in the shade of a tree.
“Mama, I’ve come back!” Kati called out as she ran towards her with her arms outstretched.
As soon as she saw her, her mother’s face lit up with an adoring smile as she opened her arms to greet her daughter.
Katalina ran right into her mother’s arms. It had been so long since she’d been held lovingly.
“Let me look at you! I’ve missed you so much,” said her mother as she pushed her back to see her. As her glance settled on her daughter’s face her expression immediately changed from one of love to one of fear, followed by disgust, and her arms fell to her side.
“Mother, what’s wrong?” Asked Kati, puzzled.
“Who are you?”
“Mama I’m Katalina, your daughter!”
“You are not my daughter,” she said simply. Her brows had met in the middle of her forehead forming a tight line of anger and concern. Katalina remembered that look from the times she’d gotten into trouble, but she didn’t understand it now. “I don’t know who or what you are, but you are no daughter of mine! My daughter’s face was sweet and innocent yet yours is demonic and… otherly. You make a good resemblance but you are not she.”
“Mother…” Katalina was lost for words; she felt the tears fill her eyes and her stomach turn. “Mama something’s happened, but it’s me.”
Her mother simply shook her head and put her arms back up as Katalina went to embrace her once more. She looked angry but also genuinely afraid.
“You resemble my Katalina but you could never imitate the color of her eyes. You cannot fool me! Leave this place, beast, you are not welcome here.” She said, before swiftly making the sign of the cross three times, pushing past Kati and locking herself into the house.
A feeling of total shock and disbelief enveloped Kati and suddenly she felt the light at its full strength; her stomach turned and she felt sick. She scarpered off into the woods for a dark place to hide. Her own mother hadn’t recognized her; her own mother had rejected and turned her away. If this was a blessing it was a curse as well. She hadn’t changed that much surely. Her eyes had taken the nebulous quality that all Afflicted eyes acquired once they changed, and her teeth, especially her canines, had become more pronounced but she could still see old Kati, healthy Kati, in there. Why couldn’t her mother? She remembered reading the Countess’s journal and the part where her own family had rejected her after she’d changed. It seemed as if an Afflicted person’s old life could never be reconciled with the new.
For the first time in her life Kati felt well and truly alone. She had escaped her “mentor” and she had been rejected by her own mother. With the old man dead she had no one and nowhere to turn to. She curled up into a ball in the small alcove she had found, covered herself with surrounding foliage and wailed in anguish until she went to sleep, trying to ignore the terror that was gripping her core.
At nightfall she woke up and remembered her situation. She sat idly on the ground completely at a loss. She started walking and soon found herself at the old man’s house; the door was open and on walking in she realized it was just as they had left it. The old man was sprawled dead on the floor with his mauled throat exposed with flies as his only company. Even in death and with no eyes she could still see the terror in his face and she cursed the Countess for what she’d done to him.
Finding a shovel, she went out into his yard and began digging a hole under his favorite apple tree. The apples this tree made were small and sweet and he always had a bowlful on his table when they were in season. She remembered how he used to skillfully peel them in one continuous motion taking off the peel in one thin ribbon which he used to hang up to dry and later throw in the fire for fragrance. She wondered how long it took him to find and collect them, especially because they were always perfectly ripe. She didn’t care for them but he never failed to tell her how delicious they were.
She knelt by his body and tried to pick it up, but he was heavy and she was hungry and exhausted. She was struck by its stiffness. Most of the corpses she had disposed of for the Countess were almost always fr
esh so rigor mortis was rarely an issue. She dragged it wearily into the yard and rolled him in face down. She couldn’t face turning him over so this would have to do. She stood there looking at him for a good while, lamenting the fact that the only person who had accepted her in her new form was dead, though somewhere inside she blamed him for what she’d become. He’d been the one who told her to stay when her instinct was to escape. If she’d run away when she’d first read the journals that told all about Theodora Laskari’s transformation into the formidable Countess she might still be normal.
Most likely he’d been right though; the Countess would’ve gone through hell and high water to find, return and punish her. She’d seen first-hand what she did to people who angered her. When the student Margareta had tried to escape, she’d found her in a matter of minutes. Katalina was almost killed for reading the journals and for hiding her gift so she didn’t even want to think of what would have happened if she’d been caught running away with her mother. The tightness in her gut returned.
When she filled the grave in, she put a singular apple on top of the mound of earth and clumsily carved the name “Papa” on the tree and the date underneath it. She sat on the mound and started to cry desperately. She cried once more for her mother and for the old man, but mostly she cried for herself. If the Palatine’s men had found her at that moment she would have felt relief.
Returning to the hut, she put the shovel back in its shed and got down on the ground and proceeded to scrub the blood from the wooden boards, but to her dismay it wouldn’t wash off. The stain would serve as a permanent reminder of what had transpired in this room. She replaced the furniture that had been knocked about during the struggle and pulled the table over the stain. She returned his chair by the fireplace where he kept it and proceeded to start the fire again. It was the first time since she’d known him that the fire was out. The poker he had used to defend her against the Countess lay in the middle of the room so she put it back in its holder.
Bathory's Secret: When All The Time In The World Is Not Enough (Affliction Vampires Book 1) Page 28
