A Slow and Painful Death ( The Life of Elizabeth Bathory & Her Victims )

{ how to escape a slow and painful death }

       The minute word about Elizabeth Bathory came out, Hungary was no longer itself.  It was just a kingdom of chaos. Just as she, herself had wished it be.  If the land had fallen to chaos under her touch, what power she must have. 
     I knew there was something wrong when my fellow servant girls started disappearing one by one.  Everyone was quiet about the whole thing, but in their silence, i could hear their muted screams.  What pain, you can inject in silence.  In the lack of sound, I could hear them.  Everyone of them.  Their loud treacherous screams and their long heavy sobs.  In the bed sheets, i could see their fallen tears, and in Elizabeth's emotionless black eyes, I could see them, their mouths drawn open and their eyes wide.  And in my own heart of emotionless shattered glass, i felt deep pity for them. 
      For the first 24 years of my life I identified with being a sociopath.  I didn't 'fall in love' with people, especially men.  I had grown a deep spiraling pit of hate for them after my accident.  Oh, yes, my accident.  The thing is Elizabeth only kills virgins, or so I'm told:   And that trait was stolen from me at a very young age.  She knew i was just like her.  I didn't feel pain, so she kept me far from it.  I respected her for that.  But let me remind you forgiveness and respect are not the same thing. 
      Once my friends started vanishing, I felt pain.  I wasn't what I had thought was, or what I had hoped.  Because with pain, comes weakness.      
I waited, everyday, for my friends to come back and tell me of how they had survived yet another day with the horrid Blood Countess out to get them.  But they stopped coming.  And the once noisy clustered room had fallen silent. 
    It was only a matter of time before i imagined i would find myself thrown about into her hands where my death would await.  I wish i would've died too.  It would be only fair.  But it was silly of me to think of Elizabeth that way, because was never one to be fair. 
      I couldn't let Elizabeth know of my pain.  That would ruin everything.  If I was any different than the way I had presented myself to her, I would be dead right now.  She feeds off of weaknesses, y'know.  She feeds off of fear.  The best way to go to war with Ms. Bathory is with bravery.  But more so than courage, you must learn to keep your weaknesses hidden, because if you do not, you will be fighting a losing battle.  You must be befriend a monster to destroy it.  And you must become one too.  But I have done what my dear friends had failed to do, I had won the war against all so unbeatable blood countess.  And I'm going to tell you how. My name is Mary Oliver and today I'm going to tell you how to escape a slow and painful death.