Google Doc with better formatting {https://docs.google.com/document/d/17dhqFZC0y63E6ldxeVEsAMkzdDieMK6OUzTpC1nkNXQ/edit?usp=sharing}

Notes: Countess Bathory was a real person and according to Wikipedia her victims were primarily female. While she was accused of vampiric tendencies, all of the accusations came post imprisonment. I don’t know if writing about a dead, serial killer is cruel, but if that disturbs you, please escape now. If you’re still here, know that F4F is the cannon script but I’ve written it in an (M/F)4(M/F) fashion.

*continuous walking footsteps on a muddy road* *cold wind blows*

(Bathory; yelling)

Miss/Sir!

Miss/Sir!

Miss/Sir, it’s barely above freezing! Where could you possibly be headed this late?

*listener speaks*

That’s at least a day’s ride away, and you’re on foot. A little girl/boy like you shouldn’t be subjected to these elements. Please, come here. Stay in my manor for the night. After a hot meal and a rest, I’ll have a carriage you can ride to town.

*listener walks to Bathory*

(Bathory; speaking voice)

Thank you, miss/sir. I’d hate to know a pretty little thing like you froze to death when it’s so warm inside. Come in. I’ll have my head maid serve you tonight. Anything you need is just a call away. We were having a roast tonight, does that sound alright to you dear?

*listener responds positively*

Delightful! I’ll go freshen up for dinner. Katarina will escort you to the dining room.

*footsteps receding* {time skip to dinner}

(Bathory)

Delicious roast wasn’t it? It was farmed right here. All of this meal came from my little manor straight to you. We grow a few crops here and even ferment our own wine. I love it because it means I don’t have to send anyone to market. The nearest town is still a few hours away after all.

Are you from close by, or have you been trekking for some time now?

*listener responds*

So you’re not from Čachtice? It’s the village, down in the valley. It looks beautiful at night. You can see the warm glow from our watchtower. Would you like to see it?

*listener responds*

This way then miss/sir.

(Bathory; speaking while walking)

We’ll walk through my garden on the way there. I love strolling through it at night. The moonlight really highlights the beauty of everything inside. I was in my garden when I heard you on the road. You were positively trudging dear. How long had you been walking for?

*listener responds*

You must be tired. A sweet traveler like you shouldn’t be on her/his feet for that long.

*listener assures Bathory they’re fine*

(Bathory; sternly, no longer walking)

Dear, it’s not fine. I shouldn’t even have you out strolling through my garden.

*pause*

Here, lean on me, sweetie. I’m stronger than I look, I’ll be fine.

*listener leans against Bathory*

Honey, you’re trembling. Are you going to be okay?

*listener assures Bathory*

I guess you seem healthy enough. Your physique is certainly well but, do you feel alright?

*listener admits symptoms*

Woozy? As in sleepy or, do we need to call the medic?

*listener assures Bathory*

*Bathory sighs*

If you say you’re fine, I trust you, miss/sir.

It’s probably just the Valerian we have growing here. The pollen is a mild sedative, but I keep them because I love seeing that light pink in the moonlight. Once we’re out of the garden I’m sure you’ll wake right up.

(Bathory; no longer stern, walking again)

I noticed you’ve already gotten cold. You may have an iron deficiency. You should have that checked should you ever find a knowledgeable doctor. If you want I can carry you up the tower. That way you could stay warm against me.

*listener objects*

Really, I must insist. You’re still wearing those Southerner clothes, it’s too cold for you to walk. If I carry you, you can keep all your limbs together, it’ll help your blood circulate. I promise it will make you feel better.

*listener caves*

(Bathory; joyed)

Delightful! Wrap your arms around my neck and I’ll carry you like a bride.

*grunt of effort*

I told you I’m stronger than I look dear. And you look even cuter like this.

*listener blushes*

You’re blushing! Has no one carried you like this before?

*listener stammers*

And that just made you blush more. Your face is as pink as my flowers. I wonder if the moonlight would improve your beauty too.

(Bathory; walking stops)

Here we are. The top of my little tower. The west window looks out on the forest, but Čachtice is to the east. Over here.

*pause*

The villagers down there can’t afford whale oil so they light up the town with a bonfire. It bathes the entire valley in that amazing orange glow. Do you like the view?

*pause*

Too stunned to speak? I know it’s glorious but I thought you’d be immune. After all, it pales in comparison to you.

*listener blushes again*

And I was right! The moonlight does make that little blush, perfect.

*happy sigh*

I could look at those sleepy eyes all night, but you clearly need your rest. I’ll carry you to your room, don’t worry about a thing.

*footsteps* {timeskip}

(Bathory; quieter than before)

And there you go little one. All tucked in and warm. I’ll have Katarina fetch you something to drink. In the meantime, may I tell you a story?

*listener agrees*

Good. A long time ago, but very close to here, there lived a man. More accurately there lived a count, since he was a shell of the man he once was. He did nasty things to the people closest to him even killing his betrothed, Lucy. Fortunately for the world, his past sins caught up with him. Some of his old friends killed him. But that isn’t the story I wish to tell you of. My story has a happy ending. When that count died his possessions were given away to the people he had tormented. A sort of retribution. Amongst these things, was a journal in which he kept his most sinister inner thoughts. The count had kept a secret throughout his long life. Supposedly, he understood a path to immortality. Of course, we both know that his “longevity” didn’t exactly pan out, but his method was solid.

*door opens*

Oh, Katarina, you brought the tea for our guest.

*hands drink to listener*

You must be thirsty after all that walking. If you need more just call Katarina and she’ll bring it.

*pause, listener takes a sip*

Anyway, my story. The count thought that drinking the blood of other humans would allow him to take the life they were meant to live. He actually killed Lucy to drink her blood. Of course, that cannibalism brought him nothing but a blackened soul but, a single shred of genius existed in his plan. The blood of another, healthy person is rich in specific vitamins. If one wanted to live a long mortal life they could easily supplement their health by taking small, purified doses from willing participants. That’s actually why some of the cups here are stained pink. A little gross I know, but scientifically, it’s marvelous. Don’t worry. As you can see, your glass is still crystal clear. I know not everyone would be okay with participating in my eccentricities.

*pause*

I tell you this story because some of the people down in Čachtice have some terrible rumors about me. They think I’m a vampire. And no matter how many times I stroll in sunlight or bathe in holy water their superstition holds strong. I thought maybe you had heard something negative about me while you were traveling.

*listener comforts Bathory*

(Bathory; voice breaking)

I’m sorry, I know. I’m tearing up. I shouldn’t let whispered rumors get to me like this but it hurts. When I saw you on the road I didn’t just take you in because you were cold. Even the many servants of this manor are afraid of me. Only my closest friends like Katarina are sure I’m just a mortal woman. I hoped that if I took you in from the road and showed you how nice I could be that you wouldn’t hate me as they do.

*pause*

I’ve been very lonely here. The servants may keep me company but they still work for me. If I was destitute they may leave me, and I’m too scared to try and find out. Every other passerby ran when they saw me. I suppose they already heard the stories. But not you miss/sir. I hoped that you would stay here for longer than just the night. I find myself quite attached to you already.

*listener mumbles wholeheartedly*

You must be tired. That tea is very relaxing and you’ve already drank all of it. You don’t have to respond now. And if you wish to leave in the morning that will be fine. Just close your eyes and sleep.

[Countess Bathory was a serial killer. The script to this point was a ploy and the tea was laced with the Valerian from earlier. However, this is a perfectly acceptable stopping point for a “Nice Count/ess Cares for Listener” story. If you want to reveal the manipulation of the Count/ess, continue.]

(Bathory; coy)

What’s wrong dear? I said you could sleep on it. Just roll over and get comfortable.

*listener lays still*

Oh good... Ilona got the distillation right.

*Bathory chuckles*

What’s wrong my sweet miss/sir? Are you finding that you can’t move?

*Chuckles again*

I admit I told a few falsehoods during your time here.

Firstly, I don’t just keep my garden tidy and neat for no reason. The Valerian’s pollen may make you sleepy, but you can infuse the root with chai tea to make a tasteless yet paralytic poison.

Secondly, the rumors spread by the nearby villages aren’t completely baseless. People who wander into my castle do tend to disappear. Vampires aren’t real, but death is and I have no intent on meeting him any time soon.

Thirdly, the donors I find are rarely willing to be bled, and I never take “just a little”. I would keep them alive but the cleansing process is quite lethal, and it must be performed on the heart itself, not just extracted blood.

*listener struggles*

Don’t try to fight it miss/sir. The quilts keeping you warm are plenty enough to hold you down. Plus, your struggling just makes your heart pump quicker. Which in turn, spreads the root faster. The amount you drank will keep you nice and docile throughout the procedure. It won’t hurt too much, I promise. And as it goes on you’ll notice it less and less. You really were a beautiful girl/handsome man so we’ll bury you with honor. A named tombstone in my graveyard. Of course, you’ll be listed as a servant and the cause of death won’t be clear but your family may find you yet.

(Bathory; with original kindness)

Don’t fret my sweet thing. Your death will help me greatly. With proper rationing, you’ll keep me going for decades. I’ll visit your grave weekly, as I do with all my sacrifices. And you can die knowing you kept the Bathory legacy alive.

​

{[(Double Super Extra Notes: Using this script in any way is fine. Youtube SoundCloud Anything. A credit would be cool, but I don't even really care about that. I'd like it if you linked any finished products though. I'd love to see what anyone does with this.)]}