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Erzebet Bathory: God, you have abandoned me. In war hundreds are killed and tortured and they are left there to rot and feed the vultures. And yet, we glorify our warriors. We give them laurel wreaths and honors. But all I get is torment, I cannot be humiliated this way. Give me an illness that will kill me fast. I cannot do it myself, I must go to heaven. Amen.
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Erzebet Bathory: God, perhaps you are trying my faith. Perhaps you are punishing me because I loved him more than I love you. Man has created God in his image which gives him dominance over everything else. Birds, lions, trees and women. I wish I had been born a man, I would have killed thousands in battle, taken over countries, burned witches - I would have been a hero. That is it, you're nothing but a myth. The Greeks created gods for everything because they could not figure out why the sea, why love, why death. Now we have created you to appease and feed our fears and ignorance. 'Cause we have so many questions and so few answers. I have used you in prayers to forgive myself for my horrors and sins. A proper burial of feeding the wolves is the same thing. Holy water is just dirty water. Why am I so scared to die? Because I do not believe in you or the eternity of the soul. When I die I shall rot and nothing will be left of me. Love is the dagger that stabbed me in the back. If you are not a myth, absolve me of my sins and give me blood to keep me young. I thank you, my Lord.
Robert Schupp
Extended Reading
