The Tale of Bluebeard In a convent far away in the mountains, a relic is kept: a tuft of beard. Its color is blue — like the dark ice of a lake, or the shadow at the bottom of a pit at night. It is the only thing that remains of the sorcerer who hunted women. His name was Bluebeard. It is said that he once courted three sisters at the same time. His appearance frightened them, and Bluebeard tried to persuade the young women of his kindness. He invited them on a forest outing, arrived with horses decorated with bells and scarlet ribbons, spread a picnic, and entertained the ladies with his tales. When the sisters returned home, they decided he was not so terrible after all. But soon the fears and suspicions of the elder sisters rose again, and they resolved to see Bluebeard no more. The youngest, however, tried to convince herself that since he had been so pleasant to them, perhaps his beard was not truly so very blue. So she accepted Bluebeard’s proposal to marry him and went away to live in his castle. One day Bluebeard came to his wife and said that he must leave for a time. He handed her a ring of keys and told her she might do whatever she pleased in the castle, open any door she wished — save one. She was never, under any circumstance, to touch the small key with the scrollwork. Her sisters came to visit her, and being mortals, they were very curious. They made a game of it: to discover which key fit which door. Behind one was a storeroom, behind another chests of gold and silks. Each door opened upon its own secret. At last, after marveling at so many wonders, they came to the cellar, where a door waited at the end of the corridor. They unlocked it, and a blackness spilled forth. One of the sisters brought a candle, and they peered inside. On the floor lay a pool of blood, blackened bones scattered about, and in the corners, skulls stacked high like heaps of apples. The sisters fled the cellar in terror. Then Bluebeard’s young wife saw that the little key was stained with blood. She tried to wipe it clean with her shift, but the blood would not vanish; instead, it bloomed across her dress in red blossoms. She tried horsehair, ashes, cobwebs — nothing could stop the blood dripping from the key. At last, she hid it away. The next morning Bluebeard returned. He asked how she had fared in his absence. She answered that all was well and gave him the ring of keys. But at once he saw that one was missing. She lied and said she had lost it. Bluebeard seized her by the hair and hurled her to the floor. He found the key hidden in the wardrobe, where it had spilled blood over all her fine silk gowns. Bluebeard was enraged. He dragged his wife down to the cellar door. She begged him for a little time to prepare for death: “Only a quarter of an hour, that I may make my peace with God.” He granted her this. The young woman rushed to her chamber and sent her sisters to the towers to watch for their brothers. Time and again she cried out to them, asking if they were yet in sight. And when her time was up, Bluebeard burst into her chamber to seize her. But just then her brothers came riding through the corridors of the castle. They dragged Bluebeard into the courtyard and fell upon him with their swords. They hacked, stabbed, slashed, and struck him, until at last his torn body was thrown to the carrion birds. The Bloody Key Not many know that the fairy tales that have reached our days were repeatedly rewritten and their meanings distorted. They contained elements that today would be considered cruel and inappropriate for a bedtime story. Their purpose was to prepare a person for the experiences ahead. Often, they speak of initiation, returning to oneself, recognizing danger, and trusting one’s intuition. In the story “Bluebeard,” it is easy to overlook a tiny but crucial detail — the bleeding key. The young girl tries to wipe it clean, to hide it, to forget the horror she discovered, and to continue living with this knowledge as if nothing had happened. At the very beginning, we see how far she is from her own intuition and how easily she becomes prey for the “beast” — “His beard is not really so blue.” The key symbolizes creative beginnings, desires, and freedom. Going against one’s desires, ignoring what hurts, closing one’s eyes to the truth — this is what spills out endlessly like blood, which seems impossible to stop. Sometimes we think our bruises will heal with time, but it is necessary to find the strength within to uncover deep wounds. Not to fall into the clutches of the beast that lives inside and waits to strike. But once you sense it — “The dark room is not so very dark".