The url of this site has been changed. Please update your bookmarks! Not So Normal News

31 October 2006

Image Hosted by


r is it Merry Halloween? Anyway, today I am going to point out some things about two of my long, lost relatives. Yes, it's me bragging, once again, about my family history.

Of the three major people I am going to talk about today, I am related to two of them and possibly the third as well. Trust me, I can show you the charts.

First, did you know that Dracula and von Frankenstein actually met in person? Believe it or not they did. Von Frankenstein fought in a battle in which Dracula was leading his troops to protect his hometown. However, they met again in the literary sense many years later.

The first relative you all know well as Dracula. Always a pain in the ass at Thanksgiving when all the other relatives enjoyed a nice chianti, he had to be different.

Image Hosted by

His real name was Vlad Tepesch, better known as Vlad the Impaler of Romania. You know his story. Bram Stoker, the writer, created the fictional elements of Dracula based on real events in the life of Count Dracula. Even though he had never traveled to Transylvania he wove a story of true horror.

Frankenstein, was brought to life by 17 year old Mary Shelly. Even at her tender age she was known in literary circles as an excellent authoress. So much so, at one time she received a letter from Jacob Grimm. Yes, one of the brothers Grimm himself. He told her of a story about one Johann Konrad Dippel. Dipple wasn't the typical "crazed scientist" but I suppose he came very close. Ummmm he actually did experiment on dead bodies that he dug up from the local cemeteries. Being born in Castle Frankenstein probably didn't help him either as he tried to bring the bodies back to life. It's true, I swear it! (Below is the real Castle Frankenstein in Darmsdt, Germany)
Image Hosted by

Shelly was captured by this story and while traveling in Germany one summer she and her husband traveled to Darmstad, Germany to find Castle Frankenstein... which they did. It was during a vacation in Lake Geneva in Switzerland while visiting the poet Lord Byron. A horrendous storm came over the city and the party-goers were forced to retreat inside the villa. It was here that Byron decided to come up with his very of a parlor game of sorts. Byron's other guests sometimes read from a volume of ghost stories, thus, one evening, Byron challenged his guests to each write one themselves.

Mary's story, inspired by a dream, became Frankenstein. Shelly continued the writing of Frankenstein after she went home. Frankenstein was finished when she was 19 and published at the young age of 21.

Next on my list is dear old "Aunty Liz" better known to people as Erzebeth Bathory. We stopped inviting her to family gatherings when we discovered that our young, nubile female cousins were kinda disappearing. Shown below is home sweet home...
Image Hosted by

In order to improve her complexion and also to maintain her failing grasp on her youth and vitality, she slaughtered six hundred innocent young women from her tiny mountain principality... in... yep, you guessed it, Transylvania. Why does the goofy side of my family always come from Transylvania?

Anyway, her tastes were of a certain slant, and consequently she began to gather about herself (as her ample financial resources readily accommodated) persons of peculiar and sinister arts. These she welcomed into her presence, affording them commodious lodging and lavish attention to each of their most singular needs and interests. Among them were those who claimed to be witches, sorcerers, seers, wizards, alchemists, and others who practiced the most depraved deeds in league with the Devil and too painful to mention even in a story such as this. They taught her their crafts in intimate detail and she was enthralled. But learning such unspeakable things was not enough.
Image Hosted by

Erzebeth was not alone in her 'unusual' interests. Aware of Erzebeth's complex preoccupations, and amused by them, her aunt had introduced her also to the pleasures of flagellation (enacted upon desolate others of course), a taste Erzebeth quickly acquired. Equipped with her husband's heinous silver claws, she generously indulged herself, whiling away many lonely hours at the expense of forlorn Slav debtors from her own dungeons. The more shrill their screams and the more copious the blood, the more exquisite and orgasmic her amusement. She preferred to whip her 'subjects' on the front of their nude bodies rather than their backs, not only for the increased damage potential, but so that she could gleefully watch their faces contort in horror at their most grim and burning fate.

Her mood deteriorated markedly and one day, as she viciously struck a servant girl for a minor oversight, she drew blood when her pointed nails raked the girl's cheek. The wound was serious enough that some of the blood got onto Erzebeth's skin. Later, Erzebeth was quite sure that that part of her own body - where the girl's blood had dropped - looked fresher somehow; younger, brighter and more pliant.

Immediately she consulted her alchemists for their opinion on the phenomenon. They, of course, were enjoying her hospitality and did not wish to disappoint, so, fortunately, they did recall a case many many years before and in a distant place where the blood of a young virgin had caused a similar effect on an aged (but generous) personage of nobility and good grace.

With such clear evidence at hand, Erzebeth was convinced that here was a brilliant discovery; a method to restore and preserve her youthful glow forever, or at least until she got what she wanted. The advice of her 'beauty consultant,' a woman named Katarina, concurred that her clever realization was most surely sound.

Erzebeth reasoned that if a little was good, then a lot would be better: she firmly believed that if she bathed in the blood of young virgins -- and in the case of especially pretty ones, drank it -- she would be gloriously beautiful and strong once again.

For years, Erzebeth's trusted helper in her various secret pleasures had been Dorotta Szentes. Now with her, and other 'witches' to help carry the load, Erzebeth roamed the countryside by night, hunting for suitable virginal girls as raw material for her difficult quest.

When back in the castle, each batch of young girls would be hung, alive and naked, upside-down by chains wrapped around their ankles. Their throats would be slit and all of their blood drained for Erzebeth's bath, to be taken while the heat of their young bodies still remained in the thickening and sticky crimson pool.

And every now and then, a really lovely young girl would be obtained. As a special treat, Erzebeth would drink the child's blood: at first from a golden flask, but later, as her taste for it increased, directly from the stream, as the writhing and whimpering body hung from the rafters, turning pale.

Although she had held off her political foes, after five years of this enterprise Erzebeth at last began to realize that the blood of peasant girls was having little effect on the quality of her skin. Obviously such blood was defective and better blood was required.

In early 17th century Transylvania, parents of substantial position wished their daughters to be educated in the appropriate social graces and etiquettes, so that they might gain the 'right' connections when ripe. Here was an opportunity.

In 1609, Erzebeth established an academy in the castle, offering to take 25 girls at a time from proper families, and to correctly finish their educations. Indeed, their educations were finished.

Assisted by Dorotta Szentes (known also by the graceful diminutive "Dorka") these poor students were consumed in exactly the same beastly fashion as the anguished peasant girls who preceded them. This was too easy, and Erzebeth became careless in her actions for the first time in her dreadful career. During a frenzy of lust, four drained bodies were thrown off the walls of the castle.

By the final count, 600 girls had vanished; Erzebeth admitted nothing. Dorka and her witches were burned alive, but the Countess, by reason of her noble birth, could not be executed. Katarina was somehow seen as another victim, and was set free.

So, Erzebeth was damned to a death while alive. Sealed into a tiny closet of her castle -- and never let out -- she died four years later.

Erzebeth did not ever utter even a single word of regret, or remorse.
Comments: Post a Comment

Site Design & Layout
Blogs Gone Wild!

Copyright Denny Shane 2004, 2005, 2006

eXTReMe Tracker