In 1610, Katherine had been investigated and arrested by a suspicious Count Gyorgy Thurzo on behalf of the wealthy friends of Hungary’s King Matthias. “Gyorgy Pyorgy” was a known lackey of the dubious King.
A reliable seventeenth century text, posted by Elizabeth’s lawyer, Lacom Nenorocit, claimed:
“Let it be known to the citizens oh Hungary that The Countess Elizabeth has only been named as ‘a person of interest.’ She has not been formally charged for any crime other than noise complaints from neighboring families. Some of those so-called neighbors, who live more than three miles away, have accused the Countess of having kidnapped and killed an absurd number of young girls assumed to be virgins from surrounding villages. We believe that most of these one thousand women have left home on their own volition. Her aforementioned accusers, from arguably influential households, are the very same people who have been complaining about late night parties at Cachtice when the Countess had been traveling out of town on important business.”
Elizabeth was put into protective custody, walled up within the highest tower of her own Castle, for the remainder of her natural life.
For many years, while her husband, Ferenc, was away fighting his endless wars in foreign lands, the passionate Countess may have ostensibly taken up a few new hobbies; witchcraft, kidnapping, deviant sex, torture and murder, all of which were popularized by hoards of invading armies that still swept across Hungary and Romania in the dark days leading into the renaissance.
It was rumored that the Countess bathed in the blood of the missing virgins to preserve her perfect complexion.
Attorney Nenorocit: “These allegations were without merit and brought to light by cowardly enemies of the Countess, who, unfortunately, could no longer be located.”
Growing up, Elizabeth wasn’t at all like the other kids in the neighborhood. One factor that may have shaped the young girl’s behavior could have been her celebrity father.
Elizabeth was the only daughter of Mr. Beelzebub Satan.
The notorious young Transylvanian Prince Vlad Tepes was tall, very dark (inside and out), handsome and bore a virile mustache. He had been tagged, by foreign invaders as a purported ruthless mass murderer. To his own people, Vlad Tepes was a hero and protector of the realm.
Some cowards accused the brave Prince of vampirism. Vlad readily dismissed these as fairy stories. His criminal accusers always seemed to be hiding from law officials and for-the-most-part were …indisposed.
At the beginning of this true story, Vlad had been leading his rugged, oiled and shirtless army from the treacherous mountains of Transylvania into Hungary in search of the Turkish villains who had once assaulted him in prison and now invaded his homeland. Vlad would see to it that all the invading Turks would line the mountain peaks of his proud country with their crow pecked bodies displayed on pikes for all to see.
“Over the mountains and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we go….”
All-willowy-an’-shit blonde-haired Wilhelmina “Willy” Rosenblatt had six coolers packed into the taxi. They were filled with dry ice and the fresh herbs and spices needed to produce her original line of “W” skin care products. All of Willy’s expensive “W” products were derived from questionable human resources supplied by down-and-out hospitals in Kosovo and the Balkans to the South. Willy would mix her skin creams by hand and on site once she’d arrived at Cachtice (Csejthe) Castle deep within the Carpathian Mountains.
The young woman was considering setting up shop near Cachtice to supply her new, exclusive, wealthy customer, the Countess Elizabeth Bathory. Though Willy’s last name was originally Bathory, she had never heard of a Countess or even an Elizabeth in her family tree. Her adoptive parents, the Rosenblatts, had tried to avoid the question completely when she had asked about her real parents. Willy knew that her last name may have been Batory or Bathory and that “your poor mother had left this world” at an early age, while living in a mental institution “where she had been attacked by a wild animal.”
Being attacked by a wild animal while inside an institution? Willy thought about it and shrugged.
Most of Willy’s wealthy customers asked for kidneys and kidney creams. Why would this mysterious woman want so many extra fresh hearts and livers? Was Countess Bathory a physician as well? Did she make her fortunes operating a transplant facility in the Carpathian Mountains for wealthy European patients?
Well, that sounds reasonable.
The motion of the car caused willowy blonde to briefly nap. In her brief dream, she saw a tall, stunning woman with porcelain skin feeding organs from one of the coolers to a pack of wolves. The blue eyed wolf sang exquisitely, while the remaining four generally joked around and sipped martinis.
The same spirited rendition of “Fly Me to the Moon” swinging from the radio of the taxi woke the sleeping young miss.. She gazed out the window. The cab still hadn’t reached the mountains.
Willy was well prepared for the long journey to the old castle in Slovakia (The territory was once Hungarian). She had her iPad loaded with “bodice ripping” romance novels, old and new, to entertain herself as she traveled deep into the Carpathian Mountains. She loved her steamy reads.
The first romance novel that she had selected on her long journey was titled:
Tragic Lust: The Prince and the Countess.
The Romanian Times had christened Tragic Lust “Eastern Europe’s classic bodice ripper.”
“Sweeping romance begins on word one of Tragic Lust.
In the saga’s opening moments, the dashing Prince Vlad, rescues the beautiful Countess Elizabeth from her tiny prison on top of (Csejthe) Cachtice castle.”
“Cachtice? Hey, driver! Aren’t we going to Cachtice Castle? Driver?”
The woman driver did not seem to hear her above the next Sinatra tune.
Chapter 1: Bountiful
Elizabeth Bathory was a beautiful young Countess, often described as regal. She was noted for skin finer than white porcelain and her devilishly red streaked long black hair. The few men that had seen the Countess spoke of her curves; more numerous and deadly than the dreaded Borgo Pass.
As Prince Vlad Tepes’ army passed beneath the maiden’s tower one evening, the dashing and daring nobelman, using his gift of echolocation, found Elizabeth’s note upon the ground. The parchment pleaded “Help! Please, handsome Prince, Please rescue me!” A tiny circular yellow face shedding a single tear and wearing a sad frown was pasted to the bottom of the note.
The sculpted Prince looked above to the tower window to see the Elizabeth looking down. The young Countess was bountiful, with long black tresses, perfect skin and creamy breasts nearly bursting from her bodice. He fell insanely in love with her, which was easy, because Elizabeth was bonus-bountiful. German medical scholars had already determined that the Prince was Über nachweisbar (certifiable).
“I can free you from your cruel prison!” he proclaimed. “ Then I will ravish you! Would that please milady?”
She had been without blood for nearly three weeks and was only interested in sucking his veins inside out.
“Milady?? Yeah. I guess. Pleeeease, rescue me! Hellllllllp!”
All the Cachtice Castle windows were trimmed with garlic. Hunky Vlad realized that he would have to enter, as any lowly mortal, through the castle’s seductive portal, beyond the unyielding erect drawbridge.
He decided that he would free her without the use of his robust army, — though they were the most muscular, brutish, brave and bountif …
“WHAT is this sleaze?” Willy wondered.
Yes, he would rescue her! She would then be obliged to sacrifice her bounteousness to his yearning manhood, with haste (!) And a minimum of bodice damage!
He was greeted at the castle door by Elizabeth’s voluptuous chambermaid, Florina, whose bodice had been previously ripped open by the lusty Italian sentry Mortadella, who had fallen asleep near the hot pulsating fireplace.
Naturally, Vlad seduced the sultry chambermaid, leaving her once buxom form drained of blood.
He donned her clothes as a disguise and kept his virile ‘stache as to avoid suspicion among the other voluptuous and furry lipped female staff in Cachtice Castle.
Soon, Prince Vlad, with his bulging biceps and rippling muscular thighs, bound up the fifteen story circular staircase to the Countess’ lonely cell at the top.
With brute force, the dangerous bad boy smashed the prison door into teeny-weeny itsy-bitsy splinters, using manly fists the size of ten pound, spiral cut, sugar-cured holiday hams.
A plume of hot steam billowed out from her…
…portal (the room temperature was nearly up to 120 degrees). The brawny hero stood hard as steel at the doorway, and in a grandiose gesture proclaimed to the Countess that he would wreak revenge upon all of her enemies, as well as their relatives, their friends, their suggested and shared friends, acquaintances, pen pals, pets, imaginary playpals and all witnesses, including Jehovah’s, within a radius of a thousand miles.
The bountiful Elizabeth was caught breathless, flushed, sweating and bursting from her bodice with passion. Without tasting or bathing in blood for an entire week, it was she who made the first move. Like lightning, she used her needle-sharp teeth to further shred through Florina’s bodice until it hung from the wide shoulders of the heroic Prince. A torrent of blood spouted from the bountiful wound she had ripped into his tanned, muscular chest. Red gore dripped over the twelve-pack of the buff champion’s washboard-flat abs.
“Countess!” said dashing Prince Vlad, his hair unfazed. “Rather than ravish and kill you for your transgression upon my person, I will use brute force to make you toil like a slave for your cravings. You know that it would be the truly heroic and manly thing for a valiant warrior to do?”
He held her at bay with his handsome silver dagger, as blood dripped from her mouth and down upon her heaving bodice. Applying his executive experience and leadership skills, Vlad decisively began to unbutton his …
…Shirt. Using his dashing bandana, he smeared the dripping blood further down, along his proud …
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SMUT!”
…sixteen pack washboard-flat abs.
Her full red lips moved toward his quivering mustache. Vlad could feel the heat from her smoldering dark eyes. He wrapped her in his bat-like cape. “Countess, I demand your love!” He thrust out his throbbing, hardening…
In response, a deep growl came from beneath her ample gore-smeared bosom.
“No! Not like a common animal! Gently, like a cute fluffy white kitten with a sparkly gold collar! — Slowly, very …s l o w l …”
She bit him again.
“ Ow! Foten Aye, man! Ouch! That Foten hurt!”
She had ripped a new spout in his throat before he could pronounce the “Y” in ‘slowly ‘…
“THEY HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING!”
(Feeling very awkward, Willy jumped two chapters ahead.)
…tiny white bats burst out of his …
…ears, … and covered the Countess’ bushy …
…bonsai tree. The powerful Prince, white as a sheet and completely drained of blood fell to his knees. Knees that bowed down to no one!
The Countess, feeling pity for the emaciated, but dashing etc. etc. The overheated Elizabeth tore her own bodice, offering Vlad her silken neck, so that her chiseled savior might live. How sinful she thought. She was found herself caring for the strapping brute. Her black heart was beating fast beneath her bountiful, ample …
Alas! Like a balloon that had farted and spun around the room at a child’s birthday party the poor Countess felt totally deflated. Elizabeth collapsed, empty and panting on the floor.
The Prince, again, was almost overflowing with Florina’s bountiful gore. Fully recovered, and feeling robust Vlad began to paint more of the oft-swapped blood on his …
“MOTHER OF THAT BEARDED CARPENTER GUY! NOOOO!!!”
This bountiful blood of the mustachioed chambermaid Florina, was recycled back and forth, forth and back, until …
“SAVE ME, …UH, WHAT’S-HIS-NAME….”
(Willy skipped ahead several chapters…)
Three days later, the perforated lovers couple continued to siphon…
Willowy Willy deleted the offending book from her iPad with one poke from her wisp-of-a-delicate finger. She’d decided that Tragic Lust was an abomination of nature — deeply disturbing, unlike her steam-fest Fabio novels. Tragic Lust’s storyline was absurd — too farfetched to be taken seriously, even as a trashy novel.
An exceptionally trashy novel.
She was about to open the critically acclaimed Trailer Park Pirate, when, without warning, the persistent fog had lifted from the mountain pass. The taxi had halted beneath the bright moon at the base of the black fortress.
When she looked up and around the car, the organ packed coolers and the female driver had vanished.
Willy, still felt violated by what she’d read. (So had twenty-million other Amazon customers who’d read and reread the book.)
Willy took a few moments to compose herself and then began the long dark trek up hill from the cab to the drawbridge.
Wilhelmina felt herself stepping on papers and plastic bottles. She turned on her iPhone7 to use as a flashlight. The entire path was littered with Whole Foods coupons, bottles of room-temperature purified water and a sprinkling of low fat almond honey granola.
From inside wolves were singing something oddly familiar.