Uncanny

This time, I woke up as someone pulled my hair roughly to drag me out of my cell. I gasped awake but didn't yell. The girls in my cell cowered in the corner in fear. The others in nearby cells were staring at me curiously. No one tried to help me, and I felt more disorientated than scared.

They put a thick scarf around my eyes and tied it tightly, those burly men with tattoos of Báthory's coat of arms. I was no match against their strength, so I didn't fight and let them cover my eyes. Once they finished tying my hands and pulled me up to stand, however, it came to me that, perhaps, they chose me among other girls because I knew about the crest. I wondered what was happening right now.

At that moment, I was still unaware of how long I had been here, whether it had been days or months. Nobody told us, and whenever the guards came down it was to throw us food (which they only did every once a day, so I was told by the police) or to drag one of us out. And even when they brought me to this room, which seemed as dark as the cells, there was no clue if that was day or night. But in front of me, a lady was sitting behind a vast desk. Perhaps this lady was their boss? Her chair was tall that it appeared as if she was sitting on a throne, looking down at me, her prisoner. Behind her was a wide window, almost as tall and wide as the wall, except it was painted black. The only light illuminating the room came from the chandelier of a dozen candles hanging above my head.

The guards who brought me walked backward while glaring at me. Their gaze was warning me not to try to run away. They stood alert by the only door to this room, facing the room. I turned my look to the lady across me, studying her. At first sight, the lady reminded me of a vampire I saw once in a movie: her skin was white, pale even; her lips were bright red like fresh blood, and so was the color of her dress; and her hair was black as a starless sky, loose and straight and long, reaching her hips. From under the desk, I could take a peek at her dirty, bare feet—her toenails, just like her fingernails, were painted bright red. She was staring at me intently but calmly.

After a long moment of silence, she asked, "Do you like my dress?" which was unexpected and nearly caught me off guard. "Do you like how I look?"

I frowned. "Who are you?"

The lady chuckled. "You should have known by now. Don't you know? I'm Elizabeth. I was told you were calling for me earlier. Didn't you wish to meet me?"

I could only gape. "Elizabeth … Báthory?" I sounded unsure.

The lady only nodded and said nothing.

I was getting more confused. "But I thought Báthory was from Hungary."

Suddenly, she laughed out loud. "Look at yourself! It seems like you know a lot about my family history. Or should I say, my husband's family history?"

I frowned. "Is your husband Hungarian?"

The lady didn't heed my question. "I didn't ask for you here so we could have chitchat. I want to ask you questions." She leaned forward; her expression turned menacing all of sudden. "Particularly, I want to know what you know about me."

"You?" I lifted my eyebrow. "Don't be ridiculous, we just met!"

"But you have already known my name," said she. "You called for my name earlier. Who are you? How did you know about my name?"

My frown got deeper. I didn't know anything about this lady, but she seemed upset at me for knowing her name. "Ma'am, I don't know you, I'm sorry. I did recognize the tattoo on one of your guards. It was the crest of the Báthory family, that's why I said her name earlier. But Elizabeth lived hundreds of years ago, in Hungary. She was Hungarian, not Korean."

"Bullshit!" The lady whacked the desk in front of her so hard that I thought I saw splinters of wood fly away. "What you just said is bullshit! Elizabeth Báthory is not dead! I have reawakened her again, and now her soul resides inside me." She jumped and climbed on top of the desk, lifting her arms high in the air as if she was praying. "Her wisdom, knowledge, legacy, I own everything now. She was truly a great lady and now I will make her greatness known again. I will spread her knowledge to the world, so they will remember for generations to come that there is no one else as great as Elizabeth Báthory."

But still, I was unfazed. "You're crazy," I mumbled. Yet she heard me nonetheless.

"What did you just say?" she jumped from the desk and grabbed my jaw to look into my eyes, but I didn't budge. She tightened her grip until I glanced at her. "What the fuck did you just

say?"

"I said," I was grimacing—the lady was hurting my jaw, "you're crazy."

The lady shrieked. "I am not crazy!" she spat. "You're just like everybody else, questioning my sanity and never listening to me!"

She let go of my jaw roughly and yelled something at the guards, something not in Korean, but the guards understood her and went out of the room. The lady then turned to me again.

"I want you to tell me who you are," she stated this while circling me as if determining whether I would make suitable prey or not. "Who you're working with. Are you one of Hong Joon's subordinates, sent to spy on me?"

When I didn't reply to her, she abruptly kneeled beside me, pulling my hair so tight that tears welled in my eyes. I inhaled sharply. "I know you went to Sangpan-ri with your two male friends. I had my boys followed you since you were still in Daegu—not because you were attractive, mind you, but because you were an eyewitness to something you shouldn't have seen."

She pushed my head, and I lost my balance, falling to my side. My head prickled as if someone was puncturing my skull with thousands of needles. But it was the least bothering my mind right now. I was picturing Min Gyeong in my mind, wondering how she was doing now in her cell.

"I just want to find my best friend," I defended. "That's why I went to Sangpan-ri. I thought she would be there. I don't see any reason that made you think I should be followed."

The lady sneered when she heard me say "best friend." "You don't see? But you were keeping tabs on my boys!" She threatened me with her glare. "You knew where they were, you knew what they were doing, and you immediately called the police after you saw them. Your "best friend" is merely an excuse." She pulled my hair again to make me sit straight.

In the dim light of the candles, my eyes caught something else on this lady's face: she had a thick layer of cosmetics that it cracked around her lips. No wonder she seemed so white … and false. As if she was trying to hide behind her layers of make-up. The thick layers were remarkable even to my poor eyes—I wondered how she'd look under the sunlight.

I struggled to level my eyes at her. "What do you plan to do to my best friend? And to the rest of the girls?"

She didn't blink when she answered my question, "What else do you think I'd do? I plan to carry on my experiment. Báthory's experiment, her legacy. I don't want Hong Joon's lowly employee like you to disturb, or even call off, my work. My hard work for years! I've been trying to figure out the way to eternal beauty and Báthory's ideas are the most brilliant so far. I only need to do the ritual in the right way, and …" she twisted her wrist slightly, "it will soon be done."

Slowly, the horror crept into my mind, and my eyes widened in realization. "You … plan to do what Báthory did in the past." My brain suddenly was flooded by terrible images.

"And I also plan to save you." She slowly released me and grinned as she stood up straight. "I will let you be my guest of honor, let you be the first to watch the whole ritual I'm about to do so you can report that to Hong Joon. I'm sure you know what I mean since you're familiar with Elizabeth Báthory."

I didn't even know who this Hong Joon was, yet the lady kept spitting his name with full hatred. I listened to her no more—my brain was already too weary to think. The lady yelled at the top of her lungs, "This way, I can formulate a concoction that will make all the women in this world beautiful forever! I can make them young forever! No more of those painful surgeries, no more of those money-flaunting and going to the beauty clinics!" She cast her finger at me. "Don't you, as a woman, wish to be young and gorgeous forever?"

"That is completely a ridiculous idea," I replied quietly, having no more strength to match her loud voice. "You're not making anything—you're just torturing everyone, especially those poor girls in prison."

"Poor?" she tilted her head. "I'm surprised you could say so. There is nothing to be pitied in those girls. Someday they will surrender their present youth to be reshaped under the knives of plastic surgeons. But such things will only make people look fake. Their beauty will not last long that way. The physical pain will stay with them forever. Whether they become a model, an actor, or a singer, they won't be famous forever. As soon as they are in their thirties or forties, people will abandon them." She crouched in front of me, so close that I could actually smell her breath. "What can go wrong in sacrificing themselves for generations to come? They will contribute to future science."

Her words disgusted me greatly that they made me gag in reflex. I had been thinking of doing something to stop her, but what? How? "You're pathetic. You won't show anybody anything. And whatever you're doing, it's not scientific."

The lady gulped. "Just as I thought. Hong Joon said the same thing already. You all never listened to me." She stood and walked to the door. "I'll prove it to you! I'll make sure you watch everything. You'll believe me!"