Mary Blake: A Nasty Novelette

by Sam West

  It was small talk, and Casey knew she had little time to humour him. She stood facing him, not bothering to sit down.

  “We need to go out together, somewhere public where there are lots of witnesses. And then you need to call the police. Tell them I’m with you and you’re scared of what I might do.”

  He looked at her blankly. A distant part of her mind noted that he looked far older than he had done in his facebook profile picture. She wondered if the lines etched on his face had anything to do with the guilt he must have been carrying around with him for all those years.

  “Casey, you’re scaring me. You’re talking like a crazy person. But then, that’s what you are, isn’t it? We all covered up for what you did, and now I wish to God I hadn’t. I wish we had gone to the police straight away.”

  I’m getting stronger Casey. I’m breaking through into your world…

  “No! Leave me alone!”

  “But I’m not doing anything. Why are you here, Casey?”

  “We don’t have much time. We need to go. Now.”

  “If you’re so keen on going somewhere public, then why didn’t you arrange to meet me in a pub or something in the first place?”

  “Because I had to be sure you would meet me. I wanted your address, I had to make sure I could find you. This mess is all your fault! God, how could you do those things to Mary Blake?”

  “You cannot be fucking serious. How could I do those things? Jesus Christ Casey. It’s not the police you need, it’s the fucking looney bin.”

  Almost here…

  “What do you mean?” she asked, ignoring the voice whispering in her head.

  “You were the one that made it all go bad. We weren’t supposed to fucking kill her. Oh God.”

  He slumped on the leather armchair, his head in his hands.

  She stood over him, her entire body trembling. “She’s coming Jack, and she’s going to kill you.”

  There was a weary resignation in his voice when he spoke. “Who’s coming Casey?”

  “Mary. Mary Blake.”

  “Mary Blake is dead.”

  “I know. You think I don’t know that?”

  His patronising tone got her back up.

  He thinks I’m crazy. They all think I’m crazy. Well, I’ll show them.

  She spotted his cordless landline phone over on the bookshelf and went over to pick it up and punched in nine, nine, nine.

  “Casey? What are you doing?”

  “Yes, hello,” she said into the receiver. “I’d like the police please. My name is Casey Brown and I’m on the run for murders I didn’t commit.”

  She proceeded to give the operator Jack’s address while Jack sat there white faced and wide eyed, staring up at her in disbelief.

  “You are insane.”

  “She’s coming Jack, I can feel her getting stronger. I’m sorry, but this is the only way to prove I didn’t commit the murders. Because when the police come and she’s here, they’ll see it’s her doing it and not me.”

  “What murders? Casey, what have you done?”

  “I haven’t done anything. She has. She’s come back from the dead to avenge the people that killed her. And she’s using me to get into this world. She could break through at any moment. You need to be on your guard Jack.”

  Jack got to his feet.

  “Just stay away from me Casey.”

  “You don’t believe me. After everything you did to that poor girl, you don’t believe me.”

  “Have you ever confronted what you did that night, Casey?”

  “I… yes, of course I have.”

  “Then come on, tell me exactly what happened.”

  “I can’t. It’s too horrible.”

  “You have to. Tell me what happened before the police get here and arrest you. You want closure don’t you? I know I do. I need to understand, damn it.”

  Casey sat down on the sofa, suddenly weary beyond words.

  “You’re a bastard, Jack.”

  “Just think back to that night Casey. Stop blacking out what you did. You’ll never get better if you don’t admit to yourself what you really are.”

  Casey stared up the man towering over her on the sofa, the man she had once loved so dearly. Except she didn’t really see him, she was looking through him, reliving that night back in October 1999. It was as if she was back there, in that candle lit room of the derelict house, sitting on the rotting floorboards with her boyfriend beside her and topless Angel before her. Doug stood guarding the locked door, the keys dangling casually from his fingers…

  “That’s better,” Doug said to her when she had sat on the floor once more. “I’m so glad you decided to stay, Casey dear, because we are going to throw a Halloween party to die for.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, heart hammering. “Jack? What is this?”

  “Relax, baby,” her boyfriend replied, shuffling closer to her. “We are just going to have a little bit of fun with Mary, that’s all.”

  “No,” Mary said, speaking up for the first time. “I don’t want to.”

  “You heard her, she doesn’t want to,” Casey repeated, her eyes locking with Jack’s.

  “You’re my girlfriend, Casey. Nothing is going to happen to you that you don’t want to happen. You can join in with the fun we’re going to have with Mary, or you can just watch, it’s up to you. Isn’t that right Doug?”

  Doug, who was still stood in front of the door, shrugged.

  “Mary’s the star here. You’re Jack’s girl and we all respect that. And anyway, who knows, you might want to join in once the fun starts. But if you don’t want to play, just don’t get in our way.”

  His meaning was clear. If she tried to help Mary then God only knew what they would do to her. She looked beseechingly over at her boyfriend.

  “You heard him. Just behave yourself, OK?” was all he said.

  Angel sighed theatrically. “All this talk is making me horny. Strip the bitch and hold her down boys, I’m going in.”

  “No, Jack, don’t,” Casey said, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

  He and Doug were already on her, ripping the clothes from her body like a pair of wild animals. In seconds the girl was naked. Doug picked up her panties and balled them in his fist, shoving them in her mouth.

  Poor Mary thrashed and writhed on the wooden floor, the candlelight dancing over her pale skin. Doug took one side, Jack the other. They held her legs open and Angel was instantly between them, her face buried between the frightened girl’s thighs.

  Casey watched the unfolding scene with wide eyes. Jack fondled the girl’s small breasts that now looked completely flat like a boy as she was stretched out on her back.

  A sense of déjà vu swept through her. Something familiar, something dark and bad. She wanted to see Mary hurt.

  She had felt like this before, but she had no clear memory of exactly how, or when, or why. All she knew was that when this feeling came over her, she did terrible things. And afterwards, it was like those terrible things had never happened.

  Her blackouts. Except she didn’t even consciously call them that, because once they were over she locked them away in a dark corner of her mind. Only when she was in the throes of a blackout was she aware that there had been other moments like this one. Fragmented memories of evil things she had whispered in small children’s ears. The animals she had tortured and killed for fun. The pitch black fantasies she masturbated to where blood flowed like a river…

  And now it was happening again. The sane part of her psyche shut down so she would have no memory of this when it was over.

  Casey went over to Angel who was still lapping between the girl’s legs. As she walked she shed her clothes, so that by the time she reached the writhing girl she was naked.

  It was gratifying to see the way both Jack and Doug were staring at her.

  “Move over Angel,” she said, nudging the topless girl with her foot.

  Angel stared up at her, her wet mouth hanging op
en and her eyes wide.

  Casey took Angel’s place between the girl’s legs, and placed her mouth where Angel’s had just been.

  “Don’t just look at my ass,” she said after a moment when she came up for air. “Fuck it, Doug.”

  He didn’t have to be asked twice. She heard the whiz of his belt being pulled through the hoops of his jeans, then his stiff cock probing her crack, guided by his hand.

  “Not my cunt,” she snapped when she felt him poised for entry. “Nail me in the ass.”

  Jack was speechless. Until this moment, he had been unaware of her blackouts. Angel looked confused as well. She had taken Doug’s place by Mary’s other arm, pinning the girl down.

  You’re not the one in charge, bitch, Casey thought in some satisfaction. I am. I’m running this fucking show now…

  The delicious, perverse pleasure of being fucked in her back passage as she was hunkered down lapping at Mary’s pussy was immense. So much so she felt an orgasm quickly building.

  “Why don’t you two fuck,” she said, lifting her head and supporting herself with her hands because of the force of Doug’s thrusts. “Me and Doug want to play with Mary, don’t we Dougie?”

  “Ugh,” he grunted from behind as he slammed into her.

  “Save your come for Mary, Doug,” Casey managed to breathlessly get out.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he panted. “Fuck, I had no idea you were such a kinky bitch.”

  “I’m full of surprises.”

  He laughed and pulled out.

  Casey moved up to sit on Mary’s face, facing Doug.

  “Fuck off you two,” she snapped at Angel and her boyfriend. “Fuck each other and leave Mary to me and Doug.”

  Angel and Jack merged together in the candlelight. They began to kiss and remove each other’s clothes.

  The feel of Mary screaming into her bare pussy had her squirming in delight and she sighed in pleasure, reaching up to cup her own breasts. The girl bucked and writhed beneath her, her oxygen levels in short supply.

  Doug, still fully clothed apart from his cock that stuck out of his jeans, positioned himself between her legs and drove home. The girl squealed and Casey laughed.

  “Is she a virgin Doug?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “I reckon.”

  “Come here,” she said, leaning forward and cupping the back of Doug’s head when he reared up on his hands.

  She kissed him passionately on the mouth, their tongues dancing together. All the while the girl screamed into her vagina, further heightening her pleasure.

  God, it just felt too good and Casey ground her clit onto the girl’s nose, wringing out every last drop of pleasure.

  The orgasm washed over her and she gasped and moaned, pushing down harder and harder on the girl’s face. Mary’s body bucked, and then she went slack just when Casey was done coming. Doug was coming too, his thrusts having grown fast and erratic before he too went slack and collapsed on top of the now still girl.

  “She’s not moving,” Jack said. “Get off her face Casey, for fuck’s sake.”

  Casey noticed for the first time that Angel and Jack were no longer tangled together on the floor. With a sigh, she dismounted the unmoving girl.

  Mary gasped, and coughed, her back arching as she did so.

  “Thank God,” Jack said. “Jesus Christ, I thought you’d killed her.”

  Casey smiled and leaned down to tenderly stroke the black hair out of Mary’s eyes. Then in one swift motion she lifted up the girl’s head and brought it crashing down onto the floorboards. The back of her head made a loud cracking sound, followed by a stunned silence.

  “Now I’ve killed her.”

  Angel began to scream.

  “No, it’s not true, oh God, please tell me it’s not true,” Casey sobbed.

  The memory was too awful. It had to be false, it had to be.

  “I take it you remembered what happened then?” Jack asked, edging away from her towards the door.

  Casey looked up at him, seeing him properly again.

  “It’s not true,” she whispered.

  The rest of what happened came back to her in one big rush. How, after much arguing and debate, they decided to bury Mary in the back garden of the derelict house. No neighbours overlooked it and no one had seen them enter the house. No one knew they were there. It was to be their little secret. Jack, Doug and Angel had half wanted to report Casey to the police, but they knew that they too were in it up their eyeballs.

  They had dragged the body into the garden and the boys had dug a deep hole that had taken them most of the night…

  Casey buried her head in her hands.

  I’m here Casey, I’m through to your world. I’m going to kill Jack.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks at the sound of Mary’s voice echoing in her brain. When she opened her eyes, she saw her standing before her, as clear as day.

  “You can’t see her, can you?” she asked Jack sadly.

  Jack stared wildly at her, through the transparent ghost of Mary Blake.

  “Just try to stay calm Casey, the police will be here any minute.”

  Mary Blake stood before her, dressed in the same clothes she had worn the night she’d died. Her eyes were black holes that bore deep into her soul.

  Come, the deadly voice said in her head.

  She stood before her and dragged her to her feet. Then she was behind her, marching her over towards Jack.

  “No,” Casey cried.

  She had no control of her limbs, like Mary was behind her and inside her all at the same time.

  “Casey? What are you doing? Please sit back down.”

  “Run, Jack,” she managed to get out, but it was too late.

  Mary was making her lunge for him. She was forcing her to gouge at his eyes with her fingernails.

  With a wail of agony he stumbled sideways and fell over the armrest of the sofa, knocking over a standing lamp as he went and landing in a tangle of limbs on the cushioned seat.

  Casey picked up the nearest heavy object; his laptop.

  Again and again she brought it crashing down on his face, mashing it flat into a bloody pulp, continuing long after he had died.

  All the while Mary whispered in her ear;

  Bring me the others Casey, bring me Doug and Angel. I will never leave you until you do…

  It took all the strength and brute force of the two policemen that had come in through the open front door to prise the laptop out of her hands.

  ONE MONTH LATER.

  It was Ben’s first day as a junior staff nurse at Broadmoor. The team leader was showing him around the maximum security, psychiatric ward for the criminally insane.

  “And this one in here is Casey Brown. Thirty three years old, highly dangerous,” said the well spoken man who looked close to retirement.

  They had stopped outside a padded cell, and the man drew back the little sliding hatch of the window so Ben could peer inside. He had heard of her. Who hadn’t? The press had had a field day with her story; she of the killing spree on Halloween.

  But still what had actually happened that day was shrouded in mystery. No two newspaper stories were quite the same.

  “What really happened with her?” Ben asked, his interest piqued.

  “She’s a complex one, she’s got every shrink in this place scratching their head. They’re going crazy about her, she’s a real enigma. The general consensus is she suffered severe psychotic episodes, just like the one she had fifteen years ago when she and her little gang of college friends raped and slaughtered an innocent girl. She claims she didn’t remember the part she played in what happened that night fifteen years ago until she was arrested on Halloween eve.”

  “So it was true then, what they did to that girl in ninety nine?”

  “Yeah, the press got that much right. When the police dug up her body it was apparent that Mary Blake was brutally raped and murdered at the party that night in the derelict house.”

  “Som
e party.”

  “Yeah. And when they had slaughtered the girl, they buried her in the back garden. Amazing she was never discovered before. Everyone just thought she had run off. She was a troubled girl, by all accounts.”

  Ben looked in on the young woman. She didn’t look much like a killer to him. She was slumped against the padded wall on her rump, her arms secured to her sides in a straightjacket. He supposed she might have been pretty, once upon a time. But now insanity clung to her, an almost palpable aura. It was in her dull eyes and lank hair. In the defeated curve of her shoulders and downward turn of her mouth.

  “She spends a lot of time in here, she’s a danger to herself, and others. She killed her psychiatrist, her ex-husband and her first boyfriend from college.”

  “Yeah, I read that in the papers.”

  “But I can tell you what really happened. She smashed the window of the shrink’s office and slit his throat with a shaft of glass. Then she met her ex in a strip club in Soho, smashed a mirror, and slit his throat too. She bludgeoned the college sweetheart to death with his laptop. And this is where it gets really strange. She claims it was the ghost of Mary Blake, back from the dead to exact revenge on those that had wronged her. The shrink and the ex just happened to get in the way. Good job the other two perpetrators were in Australia. Although they have since been arrested.”

  Ben let out a low whistle. “Man, that is seriously fucked up.”

  “Yeah. She’s got some major guilt issues going on, I would say.”

  Casey lifted her hanging head, and her eyes locked with Ben’s through the little window.

  He flinched.

  My God, relax, it’s not like she can hear us.

  In that moment she looked completely sane. The pleading expression in her blue eyes twisted in his guts and for the briefest of seconds, he wondered if he did believe in ghosts.

  Then she was on her feet, bouncing off the padded walls.

  “She’s going to hurt herself,” Ben said in alarm.

  Her mouth was open in a silent scream as she flung herself from wall to wall of the padded cell.

  “She’ll be fine,” the old guy said casually.

  Ben wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t hear a thing of what she was screaming, but when she came up to the hatch, he was able to lip read.