motive by Margareth Briennes, Leeds (Great Britain)
The late 16th and early 17th centuries in Eastern Europe were not exactly what one would call a progressive utopia. Picture a world where castles were drafty, hygiene was optional, and witch trials were a common Friday night pastime. Amidst this charming chaos was the Kingdom of Hungary, where the noble Bathory family lived in luxury. They owned vast lands, wielded great power, and had the kind of social standing that made them virtually untouchable—until one of them, Elizabeth Bathory, decided to take the phrase “power trip” a little too literally.

Colana: “You know, Psynet, castles are just oversized iceboxes with bad acoustics. I’d need ten blankets just to survive a Hungarian winter!”
Psynet: “And ten more to block out the screams of her houseguests. Ah, the charm of medieval Airbnb.”
Who Was Elizabeth Bathory?
Elizabeth Bathory was born in 1560 to one of the most powerful aristocratic families in Hungary. Known for her intelligence, she was fluent in multiple languages and highly educated—a rarity for women of her time. At 15, she married Count Ferenc Nádasdy, a warrior with a penchant for battlefield brutality. Together, they were like the medieval version of a power couple: think Jay-Z and Beyoncé, but with swords and fewer Grammy wins.

The Count’s frequent absences left Elizabeth to manage their estates and oversee the lives of hundreds of servants. Unfortunately, she didn’t exactly earn a reputation for being the nicest boss. Instead, she developed a hobby that some might describe as...unorthodox.
Psynet: “Unorthodox? She turned her castle into a medieval horror theme park!”
Colana: “Well, maybe she was just misunderstood. A little misunderstood...and a lot murderous.”
Bathing in Infamy
Elizabeth Bathory’s reputation took a sinister turn when whispers began to circulate about her bizarre beauty regimen. Legend has it that she believed the secret to eternal youth was bathing in the blood of virgins. Cue the collective facepalm of dermatologists everywhere.
In her pursuit of the fountain of youth, Bathory, with the help of her loyal servants, allegedly tortured and murdered anywhere from dozens to hundreds of young women. Methods included using an iron maiden, branding with hot irons, and freezing victims in ice water—a spa day this was not.

One of her more infamous devices was the iron maiden, a spiked coffin designed to give “hug therapy” a whole new meaning. For someone as rich as Elizabeth, it seemed like a lot of unnecessary effort. She could’ve just invented Botox.
Psynet: “Elizabeth really said, ‘Self-care, but make it war crime.’”
Colana: “Maybe she thought the blood baths were like medieval bubble baths? Except, you know, with significantly more screaming.”
Justice, or Just a Land Grab?Elizabeth’s reign of terror ended in 1610 when her cousin, György Thurzó, raided her castle. What he found was the medieval equivalent of a CSI episode: mutilated bodies, instruments of torture, and witnesses who spilled the bloody tea.

Elizabeth’s trial was less about justice and more about politics. Powerful men wanted her land, and accusing her of witchcraft and murder was a convenient way to get it. Her loyal servants were executed, but Elizabeth was sentenced to life imprisonment in her castle. Her punishment? Being bricked into a room with only small openings for air and food. She died four years later, probably regretting her life choices—or maybe just her skincare routine.

Colana: “Imagine being bricked up in your own castle. I’d need at least a window with a nice view!”
Psynet: “She had all the views she needed: straight into the abyss of her own moral bankruptcy.”
Conspiracies, Countesses, and Creams
Some historians argue that Elizabeth was a victim of a smear campaign, her crimes exaggerated or fabricated by greedy rivals. After all, the “bathing in blood” story sounds more like tabloid fodder than courtroom evidence. But whether she was a sadistic murderer or simply the victim of bad PR, Elizabeth Bathory remains one of history’s most infamous figures.

A juicy rumor from her trial claims she once forced a servant to bake and eat a cake made from her own flesh. Let’s just say that’s a party trick Martha Stewart would never endorse.
Psynet: “Imagine surviving medieval Hungary, only to get turned into a human croissant.”
Colana: “I mean, it’s creative…in the worst possible way.”
The Legacy of a Legend
Elizabeth Bathory’s name has since become synonymous with evil. She inspired tales of vampires, films, and countless urban legends. But beyond the gore and drama lies a cautionary tale about unchecked power, political intrigue, and the dangers of confusing youth serum with homicide.

