“Mother?” 

A small voice suddenly broke the silence in the room. Its source — a little girl, her bright, wide eyes shining beneath the door frame she stood beneath.

“Yes?” her mother answered, sitting elegantly at the table with a book in her hand. Her ebony hair flowed to her waist, and an ivory silk nightgown made a striking contrast against it. She was enveloped in the pale moonlight that flowed into the room from its grand window.

“Can you tell me a bedtime story?” The little girl hesitated for a moment before walking towards her mother with a hopeful expression.

She looked at her and smiled, putting her book down. “Alright then. Come here, Elizabeth.” She patted the empty space beside her on the settee. “I’ll tell you a story about the fountain of youth...”

***

The servant girl yelped in pain, crashing to the ground. She held one hand up to her cheek, drenching it in the tears that slipped down her face.

“Useless!” Countess Elizabeth Bathory shrieked. It was as if she were a kettle of hot water, whistling and screeching as the water inside boiled. “Take the wretched girl away; punish her.”

Two other maids scurried to the servant girl on the ground, their heads down to avoid eye contact. They grabbed her arms, pulled and dragged her up hastily, and then scurried off. The rest of the staff went back to their work like rats, running and hiding, not wanting to fall prey to the Countess. There was no doubt that the servants feared her. Her cold stare could make anyone cower, and her cruelty knew no bounds. 

Once everyone had gone, the Countess inspected her hand, investigating the prickling sensation that now hindered her. The red of her palm, resultant from hitting that servant, stared back at her almost accusingly. She ignored it. When she noticed a little droplet of red on her wrist, she grabbed her handkerchief, wiping it away with ease. She frowned slightly then carried on with her day.

Later that night, the events of the day crowded the Countess’ mind: work, papers, and an incompetent servant girl. Then she remembered the blood, so red, like a tiny ruby. Suddenly, she sat straight up and grabbed the candle sitting on the nightstand to bring it closer to her wrist. She examined her skin closely—it seemed brighter, smoother, younger. She brushed a finger across her skin, a long-ago memory returning to her mind like a distant ship slowly drawing near from the horizon. She saw a sofa; an evening story; her mother. Could it be? 

When the Countess awoke the next morning, she went about her day as usual. There were reports to look at and papers to complete. All ran according to experienced precision, but little did everyone know something horrendous would descend upon them that very night.

When the sun set, the Countess called the head butler into her study. 

“Come in,” she said as the knock on the large double doors echoed in the room. Her butler was a man in his mid-fifties (Precisely which age, how could she know? She never really cared to ask). He had been working in the castle since Countess Elizabeth had been just a child. He was no stranger to the Countess’ moods and cruel treatment towards her servants. He bowed as he came into the room. To the Countess, he was one of the few people who held some level of competence. 

“That girl,” the Countess declared, “the one from yesterday — is she chained up in the dungeons?” 

“Yes, Countess. As instructed.”

The Countess pondered his utterance for a moment. “That will be all. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, Countess.” he bowed, “but might I ask something?”

The Countess narrowed her eyes. “Speak.”

“Shall I prepare the devices... for the girl?”

“Oh Beduerus, it’s like you can read my mind.” The Countess laughed in delight. “Yes, do prepare the devices.”

***

The whispers ran through the house like wildfire.

“Did you hear about that unfortunate girl?”

“I was there when they dragged her away.”

“Keep your voice down; don’t let her hear you or she might just...”

“It’s just a rumor.”

“But did you hear the screams?”

“What if she came after us?”

“Don’t be superstitious! It’s just gossip.”

Beduerus strode past the anxious women and smiled knowingly to himself. Fools, he thought, approaching the doors to the Countess’ study. When he knocked on the heavy wooden doors, a deep echo resonated.

“Come in,” the Countess’ voice rang.

“Good afternoon, Countess.”

“Yes, good afternoon indeed,” she replied, placing her pen down, lifting her eyes away from the documents. “What is it?”

He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed. “This servant is simply wondering if yesterday’s preparations were... satisfactory.”

“Oh Beduerus, how thoughtful of you,” she paused. “They were tolerable. Bring me a girl that’s more...” She paused again, pondering the most appropriate word, “tender and ripe.”

She smiled for a second, almost too quickly to notice. “It gets boring and tedious, and anyway, it might affect the quality of the blood when they are so lifeless and bony.”

“Forgiv-” A clattering sound interrupted Beduerus’ reply, followed by hurried footsteps from outside the door. 

“Beduerus,” she said expectantly, “we’ve got a rat. You know what to do.”

“Of course, Countess,” he said calmly.

“We’ll carry on our conversation later, once we’ve rid ourselves of our disturbances, shall we?”

“Yes, Countess.” He bowed and swiftly exited the room, following the scurrying footsteps down the corridor.

He felt sorry for the girl, but to him it was inevitable. She was a sacrifice that had to be made. He reassured himself, this is for a greater purpose, one insignificant life of a servant girl is nothing. 

***

“Beduerus,” she paused and then stood up, scarlet liquid dripping off her skin. “The towel.”

There was the swishing sound of rippling liquid as she stepped out of the stone tub filled with blood. As soon as her foot touched the ground, the Countess turned around as Beduerus draped a large, white towel on her.

“Do you require anything else, Countess?” Beduerus bowed his head as he asked.

“Actually yes. Light the candle first; we’ll talk later.”

“Of course,” Beduerus answered and exited the room, leaving the Countess to herself.

Once alone, the Countess looked back into the dark room. The only source of light was a small window near the ceiling. She looked towards the tub, which glistened as if it were filled with rubies. From her eyes the stone tub transformed into a fountain, and as clear as day, she remembered the words her mother had once read to her. Her trance broke when she spotted something peeking out from behind the tub. 

It was a hand. Splattered in blood. 

It belonged to the unfortunate servant girl. The Countess glanced over it before lifting her own hand effortlessly, checking her skin and nails.

Eventually, Beduerus’ footsteps could be heard returning, and the Countess could see a warm golden light moving closer and closer from the hallway behind the arch. He carried the light that would guide her out of this dark and cold room, and into a more comfortable one. It was part of their routine — he would take her there to relax after her “bath.” Once she was settled into her comfortable settee within that very room, she spoke.

“Bring me the mirror.”

With swift diligence, her servant bowed and presented his master the gilded oval.

The Countess stared at her reflection in the mirror, and lifted a hand to her face, trying to feel the lost youth of her skin. 

“Beduerus,” the Countess said grimly, “ the blood of those lowly commoners is useless. It’s time to change to something better.”

***

The rumors wrapped the entire house in a whirlwind of apprehension and fear.

“And have you seen the newspapers? Another noble lady went missing yesterday.”

“Have you noticed the Countess seems to be in a good mood lately?”

“In fact, it’s the fourth one.”

A lone servant girl worked in a corner of the kitchen as she listened to the others whispering in hushed voices. Hired quite recently, she found it hard to strike up conversations with the other girls, especially since everyone felt ill at ease around the Countess. Add the fact that there appeared to be a serial kidnapper on the loose, casual conversation was even harder. 

“Why are they so scared? They only target noblewomen, nowadays,” she muttered to herself as the others continued to gossip.

“Alisa,” an older woman from across the kitchen called for the girl, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Come, I’m sending you out on an errand.”

Alisa put down the dishes she was scrubbing and hurried over to the Countess’ cook. 

“Here,” the cook said as she handed Alisa a slip of paper. “Deliver this to the grocer; he’ll know what to do.”

Before she could say anything else, the cook had already gone back to work. No one noticed as Alisa slipped out of the noisy kitchen.

***

“We will have all of the things on the list delivered to the Bathory Manor by tomorrow,” The grocer said as he tucked the slip of paper into his pocket.

“That would be great,” Alisa replied, although she had no idea what was listed on the paper, for one, because she could not read.

She didn’t dally any longer than she needed to; she still had many tasks waiting for her at the manor, and the sun was already setting. 

There weren’t many people out and about, making the roads especially quiet. Her worn-out boots clacked against the brick-paved road while she walked, and for a moment, it sounded as if someone was following her. When suddenly a male voice punctured the rhythm of those boots, she jumped, startled. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, can you please spare me a moment of your time?” A man appeared out of the shadows of the street with a calm smile on his face. His clothes were elegant but not too fancy; his hair was combed back, and he had a small mustache. He was obviously handsome even in the dimming light, but Alisa could not afford to waste time with him. 

“I’m sor-” before she could finish, something hard made contact with the back of her head. Her vision wavered as she fell to the ground. There was a terrible ringing in her ears and an awful throbbing in her head. Her vision slowly began to blur as her consciousness faded.

“... Bathory’s servants… question her… quickly before someone...” The last thing she registered in her mind was their muffled voices and her body being hoisted off the ground.

***

Beduerus pushed the doors to the kitchen open as some off-task servants scrambled back to their work. The chatter in the kitchen ceased as the servants kept their eyes on their chores. 

Beduerus glanced over everyone present but then frowned when he realized there was one less servant than usual.

“Someone is missing,” he said with authority. “Who is it?”

The room grew tense, like pausing a play at an awkward moment where sounds and voices should be heard. 

“Alisa. It’s Alisa.” The cook's voice broke through the frozen time frame.

“Alisa?” Though Beduerus always spoke with a smile, the air around him was always cold and prickly. 

The cook's throat bobbed up and then down. “She’s the kitchen girl hired recently. She’s gone to the grocer’s for me.”

“Ah, of course, the new girl,” Beduerus said with nonchalance. He turned to leave, but then quickly looked back to the kitchen. “Back to work!”

***

It wasn’t long before the servants were swept up yet again in a storm of gossip and rumors. This time it was a bit ... closer.

“Have you seen Alisa?”

“No?”

“She’s the third one that has gone missing.”

“Do you think she ran away?”

“Didn’t she used to work closely with Sir Beduerus?”

“Don’t know, just heard the rumors.”

“But, what if they were kidnapped”

Beduerus was finishing up the documents he was to hand over to the Countess after her bath when a servant rushed over to tell him that there was a carriage parked in front of the Bathory Manor.

“Who?” Beduerus questioned with a frown.

“I-I’m not sure, i-it has the crest of the royal court on the carriages, though.”

“And why in the world would they visit us?”

“I-I-I-”

Beduerus cut off the stuttering servant. “Albert, send Alisa to alert the Countess. I will, well, receive our guests.” 

“What are you staring at? Hurry along.” 

“Y-Yes, sir!” Albert slurred before scurrying out the room. 

Beduerus approached the vestibule with swift steps and a stern expression. He paused as he stopped in front of the door, pulling them open to a surprised man, fist raised, ready to knock on the door. The man was dressed in an elegant but not too extravagant suit; his hair was groomed back, and he had a small mustache sitting above his lips. There were also a few other men following behind him.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” Beduerus said with composure.

“Ah, greetings, yes, please,” the man said as he took out a sheet of paper from his breast pocket.“Well, won’t you be so kind as to let us in. Actually, you have to let us in. It is ordained by the king after all.”

***

“Sir Beduerus!” Albert called, out of breath from his search for Alisa, “Sir Bedu-” his voice caught in his throat when he spotted two foreign men walking a few paces in front of Beduerus.

The Countess’ right-hand-man frowned ever so slightly as Albert approached him with hurried steps; the panicked look on his face told Beduerus all the information he needed to know. They were onto the Countess. Someone had told. 

“What is it?” 

“A-A-Alisa, she’s uh! days ago uhh! she’s missing!” A jumble of words rushed out of Albert’s mouth.

The air in the room suddenly dropped by what seemed to be a few dozen degrees. Everything moved in slow motion, and time loitered for a moment. An awful foreboding settled in Beduerus’ bones. He stood still, as color drained from his face. He was a stiff, pale corpse. At that moment he knew that he had made a fatal mistake in his forgetfulness. Not remembering Alisa might just caused him to lose the Countess forever.

*** 

The days passed by in a blur, like a bucket of water spilled on an unfinished painting warping the detail.

“Have you seen Beduerus?”

“No, probably busy sorting out everything after the Countess was taken by the court.”

“What happened, I wonder.”

“Have you heard there were bodies discovered yesterday at the riverbank?”

“What?”

“Yeah, you heard me right. Apparently, the bodies are unrecognizable. Some are even missing limbs.”

Beduerus stood around the corner of a hallway as he listened in on the maids’ conversation.

These brainless fools! These ignorant pigs! What do they know? How dare they stand there and exercise such trifling chatter! How dare they when their master has been taken by those brutes from the court! 

Beduerus’ eyes twitched as the flames of his anger hollered along with the grief and despair inside his heart. On the outside, he maintained his air of professionalism as the Countess’ loyal servant. 

That’s it! Countess Bathory is still a noblewoman nonetheless, so they won’t hurt her. Their stupid pride in their nobility won’t let them.

I must save her… Please wait for me, my Countess. I will be there soon.

The following morning when Albert woke up, he found a note on his bedside table:

 You’re in charge of the manor. Do not be a fool.

Beduerus

After all, someone had to take responsibility for ruining the beautiful painting. And that was exactly what the poor man did. 

***

The cool breeze blew through the barred windows and the morning greeting of the birds could be heard. The Countess sat on her bed humming as she brushed her silk-like ebony hair. Her hand touched her cheek as she brushed, feeling the wrinkles on her skin. She couldn’t remember how long she had been in this room, but it couldn’t have been that long. 

“Beduerus?” the Countess called. “Beduerus?” 

There was no response. 

“Beduerus! Answer me!” The Countess' patience wore thin. “BEDUERUS? BEDUERUS! ANSWER ME! WHERE ARE YOU!”

When there was still no response, the Countess became frantic. She jumped off her bed and dropped the mirror, cracking it when it hit the floor. She panicked and pulled at her hair as she shrieked for Beduerus like a banshee. She grabbed and threw whatever objects lay in front of her eyes. When she pushed over stools and chairs and shoved the sofa out of its original place, it was as if she were looking to find Beduerus underneath them. But at last, her chest heaved as she ran out of breath. She collapsed onto the ground panting, and sat there clenching her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her flesh.

When she suddenly felt a presence behind her, the Countess turned and her expression of distress suddenly turned into frenzied excitement. 

Beduerus bowed, greeting her. She pulled herself back up feverishly, putting her hands on her knees to support herself. She did not see that she left bloodstains on her pastel pink pajamas in the process.

“Ah, there you are Beduerus!” She smiled as she stumbled towards him, broken objects cutting into her bandaged feet.

“Beduerus.” She fixed her gaze on him. “Oh Beduerus, it’s good that you’re here. It’s time to prepare the next girl for me. My skin is changing back!”

Outside the door of the Countess’ room, padlocks had been secured tightly and a guard stood watch. No one, and I mean NO ONE, was getting through that door...not even a ghost.