A castle. Deep, dark, grim.
A countess, failing complexion and sadistic art
Less than perfect skin; hideous and short of vitality
Báthory dreamed of acquired youth.
Young girl’s blood; heat and life
Hung, alive and abandoned,
Crimson ponds, a slit throat.
Bathe in blood of youth, gleefully indulged,
All to restore her youthful glow and flesh.
The grim and burning fate of a child,
Unspeakable and horrid torture was merely a detail.
The mirror showed an angelic complexion.
Younger, brighter; beastly, anguished.
600 women dead; drained of blood
For her quest of beauty and youth.
No regret, no remorse;
Only horror.

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