Rosalind - Beauty and the Beast meets Dracula retelling

1-The Witch and the Lord

As I knocked upon the door,

a man crawled to me on all fours.

His lizard skin and hollow eyes

took me by complete surprise.

His pale white skin shone in the night.

How I trembled with sheer fright!

He echoed a curse inside my brain.

I think I may be going insane.

He follows me both night and day.

Please, dear sir, do go away!

But phantom ears do not hear,

my words trembling with fear.

Last night I came home only to see,

the man was waiting there for me.

I saw him there again today.

How I wish he'd go away!

On Hallows' Eve, the orphans, the elderly, and the destitute people of the city were offered soul cakes in return for prayers for the givers' dead. The soul cakes were spiced with cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg. Their rounded tops were decorated with the sign of the cross made out of raisins. Some folks sweetened the cakes with wild forest berries instead of brown sugar. Sometimes the berries were poisonous and people died because God does not love all his children the same.

It is said that a home that fails to offer a wanderer a soul cake shall have a curse laid upon them or have a trick played upon their person. So it was every household that had these soul cakes waiting on Hallows' Eve for they dared not tempt the fates. Every household except for one.

Lord Caspian never feared the fates for he was a man too rich and too powerful to care for those below him, fates included. The lord and his family lived in a large stone manor that was surrounded by lush land. Green grass grew emerald and went on for many acres until it touched the tip of the Borgo Pass in Transylvania, that is when the grass turned golden. Trees stood proud and herculean creating a forest homestead for small, and not-so-small, wild creatures such as rabbits, wolves and magpies. The garden of the manor which spread out before the building was rich with fragrance. Gardenia bloomed among magnolia trees. Sprigs of holly and ivy crept delicately around the trees and shrub alike as they inched towards the large gray stone manor.

When the old widow Serabeth, visited Lord Caspian's household on the eve of 1790 singing for her cake, the cruel lord did not welcome her kindly.

The old widow, hunched and gnarled like an ancient branch, walked down the length of the stone path leading to the estate. Her worn shoes made shuffling noises as she inched towards the house. In the crook of her elbow, she carried a basket. Serabeth's gentle singing was like the snarling of wild cats to Lord Caspian's ears, for he was used to listening to the celestial voices of the young castrati who he would hire by the dozen to sing for him and his family two or three times a month.