Mary, Will I Die?

by Shawn Sarles

  “And you don’t think it’s weird that her name’s Mary?” Elena pressed. “Just like in the game?”

  “That’s a coincidence,” Steph sputtered. “There are tons of Marys out there. It’s like the most popular name in the world. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  But Elena wasn’t convinced. And Steph didn’t seem sure now either.

  “I think that she transferred here like two weeks ago.” Steph looked like she was thinking hard about it, trying to find the evidence that would disprove Elena’s theory. “Yeah. That’s it. It was right after you and Henry broke up.”

  Elena’s head ticked to the side, and Steph threw her hands up in defense. But Elena wasn’t mad. Something had stuck in her brain. A puzzle piece. But she didn’t know exactly how it fit in. Not yet.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yeah,” Steph confirmed nervously. “I remember because I saw the fight. I mean, practically everyone did. You all had it out right there in the middle of the hallway.”

  Elena’s hand snapped up and Steph fell silent. She needed time to think. To figure this all out. It was right there at the edge of her thoughts. She started pacing back and forth, going over the facts. The dates. Everything that had happened in the past few weeks.

  Calvin’s visions. Grace’s talk of demons. Elena’s grandmother’s storybook. Steph and her soulmate, who had finally appeared after all these years. Henry’s accident. The scoreboard. The mirror. The game. Bloody Mary.

  And then it came to her. It suddenly all made sense. She whipped around, but right as she opened her mouth, a crackle ran through the room. The lights flickered and then burnt out completely.

  “Steph?” Elena could barely breathe, the darkness creeping in, freaking her out. “Where are you?”

  “Here,” Steph replied. And Elena hobbled a few steps before finally finding Steph’s outstretched fingers with her own, lacing them together and drawing close.

  “Did you hear that?” Steph whimpered.

  Elena had. And she didn’t like the sound of it.

  “I think there’s someone in here with us,” Steph whispered.

  “Everyone left,” Elena replied, trying to reassure herself as much as her co-captain. “We would have seen them come in.”

  And just as the words left her mouth, the showers hissed to life.

  Both girls startled, though Elena would have liked to believe Steph had jumped higher. She could feel the girl’s pulse racing and knew hers was drumming just as fast.

  They glanced at each other, their eyes starting to adjust to the dark they’d been plunged into, and made the decision together. They shuffled forward, their hands clasped, knuckles white with fear.

  The steam from the shower rose up and hit Elena in the face, seeping into her eyes and nose and mouth. But she pressed on, Steph at her side, walking her right up to the showers to take a look.

  And there in the mist, a figure slowly materialized. A chill ran up Elena’s spine despite the heat as the shadow took form.

  Hair curled out of its head and a long dress fell to sweep the floor. A pair of unblinking, red eyes danced around the room before settling on Elena’s face.

  A voice then, though the woman hadn’t opened her mouth. It echoed through the locker room, low and distorted by the pounding water, impossible to understand.

  “What do you want from us?” Elena finally managed to stutter. “Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

  But the figure didn’t seem to hear. Or it didn’t care. It kept moving forward, the steam swirling around it, adding volume to its dress and curves to its hips. It floated right up to the girls, and Elena swore she felt its icy breath on her cheek.

  I want you.

  The words curled through the air, the threat flipping a switch inside Elena, sending her into fight mode.

  “You can’t have me,” she shouted, and her arm flew forward, aiming for the demon’s head. But it passed right through, the steam dissipating as a soft cackle bounced off the walls and the showers shut off.

  “Did you see that?” Steph asked after a few seconds, her voice wobbling.

  “She’s not going to win,” Elena replied as she stared into the shower, remembering the figure, how confident it had been. How frightening. How in the world were they supposed to beat something like that? Something they couldn’t even touch?

  She shook her head and turned back around, facing the sinks and the mirror. She gasped, the chill of the moment before freezing her in place. She blinked and took a step closer. But she wasn’t seeing things. It was definitely there, written out across the mirror, a finger dragged through the fogged surface.

  BLOODY MARY.

  The letters were long and unmistakable. A calling card that could not be ignored.

  “She’s real,” Elena whispered, fear prickling the back of her neck. She couldn’t deny it any longer.

  As she let the truth sink in, the lights suddenly flipped back on, bathing the room in a too-bright brilliance. Elena squinted, trying to adjust, waiting for the spots in her vision to disappear. She rubbed at her eyes and held them closed. But when she opened them again, she wished she’d kept them shut.

  Because the message on the mirror was written in bright-red, dripping letters.

  White, empty space.

  The page stared up at him, a blank canvas asking to be filled. But no matter how hard Calvin tried, nothing would come. Not even the tingle of a vision in his fingertips. A complete block. An artist’s nightmare, though he knew better. He’d drawn plenty worse fates over the years. Real nightmares.

  Sighing, Calvin let his pen drop to the desk and turned back in his notebook, flipping through until he reached his last drawing, the one from two nights ago, when the scoreboard had come crashing down, nearly crushing Steph. Just like with Henry’s accident, Calvin had gone back and filled in the details. The picture hadn’t gotten any prettier.

  On the gym floor, the scoreboard sparked and sputtered, the wreckage shooting out random electric bolts, firing the last bits of blood from its veins. Smoke spiraled into the air, and in that cloud Calvin could barely make out the outline of a figure, a thing that he knew was no angel.

  A knock at the door pulled Calvin out of his daze. Reluctantly, he lifted his head and spotted a familiar face.

  “My mom’s out in the gym if you’re looking for her,” Calvin said.

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to you,” Steph replied, her hands pulling at the strap of her gym bag. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” Calvin quietly closed his notebook and sat up straight, inviting Steph into his mom’s office.

  Steph hovered in the doorway, rocking back and forth, peeking over her shoulder several times like she was planning on robbing the place, though Calvin didn’t think she’d get much for the boxes of old uniforms and sweaty knee pads. Eventually, she must have deemed that the coast was clear because she swung inside and tumbled into the chair opposite Calvin. He could see her eyes roaming, though, traveling over the trophy case behind him, stopping to read every name on every plaque.

  “So what’s up?” Calvin prompted. They hadn’t really spoken since that day at Elena’s house, when they’d first tried piecing together all of this Bloody Mary business. Steph still didn’t look at him, though. And her gaze had dropped to her lap as she struggled to speak.

  “Can I see your notebook?” Steph finally blurted out. And from habit, Calvin’s hand pressed down on the leather cover.

  But Steph knew his secret. She’d already seen his pictures. It wouldn’t hurt to show her now. In fact, it might even help him make some sense of what he’d drawn.

  “Fine,” Calvin replied, and he slowly opened the pages, letting them flutter underneath his fingertips. “This is from the other night.”

  Calvin showed her the picture he’d just been staring at, the gym descending into chaos.

  “Is that me?” Steph gasped, her finger darting toward the center of the illustration, quivering over the violent
details. And Calvin had to remember how jarring it must be for her to see herself in such a dire situation, blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth as sparks shot all around her face.

  “It looks worse than it was.” Calvin leapt to assure Steph. “Luckily you didn’t get seriously hurt. It was a miracle.”

  “But I thought you drew what was going to happen?”

  After she’d been so shy to start, Calvin hadn’t expected the question, the curiosity around his talent and curse.

  “It’s more like—” Calvin tried to think of the right words to explain what he didn’t quite understand himself. “A suggestion of what might happen. I draw a possible future. Usually the worst-case scenario. But they’ve never come true. Not until—”

  Calvin blushed and looked away. He’d only shared this with Grace, but now he knew that, he had to let Steph know, too.

  “Not until a few weeks ago, when I drew these.”

  He flipped through his notebook and pulled out three pieces of paper, the series of visions he’d drawn in the library stacks. He carefully laid them out on his mom’s desk so that Steph could see.

  “Henry’s accident,” he explained as he pointed to the picture of Elena with blood splashed across her face. “And now yours.”

  Steph’s eyes grew big as she took in the close-up portrait of her face, the explosions going off around her head like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Her hand strayed to her forehead and Calvin could see her confirming the cut there, in the exact same place as the one on the page.

  “Is there something in particular that you’re worried about?” Calvin asked, wanting to comfort her. He could tell she hadn’t come asking out of curiosity alone. “These are the only drawings you’ve shown up in. I promise.”

  “It’s not about me.”

  Steph surprised him with that. And by the way she was chewing on her bottom lip, he could tell she had something big on her mind. So he waited, giving her as much time as she needed, until she finally opened her mouth and spoke, her voice a mouse’s peep.

  “What about Mary?”

  “Who?”

  “She’s the new girl. Short hair. Always carrying her journal around with her. I think she’s in your English class or something. Elena said—she said you’d drawn a picture of her in your notebook, too.”

  And Calvin realized with a jolt who Steph meant. He remembered drawing her in class on her first day. But that picture—that animation or whatever it was—still didn’t make sense to him.

  “Do you mean this?”

  Calvin flipped through the pages and stopped on the picture of the new girl, a pencil tucked behind her ear, her eyes bright and eager, a dusting of freckles visible across her cheeks.

  “That’s her,” Steph said, looking at the page nervously. “But Elena said that she changed or something.”

  And Calvin took the pages of his notebook in his hands and flipped through them quickly, watching for Steph’s reaction as Mary’s face shifted and transformed into that of a demon. He flipped through it a couple more times, before Steph waved him off. They sat there in silence, Steph’s eyes glued to the picture, her brow furrowed in concentration.

  “What do you think it means?”

  And Calvin could tell how much the question meant to her.

  “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  Steph fixed him with a confused look. He hated that he didn’t have an answer for her.

  “Usually my drawings are pretty straightforward. They’re disasters. But this—I have no idea what it could mean.”

  “Could you tell me if she shows up in your drawings again?” Steph asked, her voice anxious, which made Calvin wonder who exactly this new girl was to Steph and what she was afraid the drawing might mean.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Calvin lied, trying to soothe his own fears as much as Steph’s. “But I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks,” Steph said.

  And as she got up to go, Calvin was suddenly thankful for the artist’s block. He had no desire to see what might come next. No desire to see anyone else’s ending.

  The temperature had dropped, the chill in the air reaching the level where jackets were no longer optional. The local farmers had gotten to work, their harvesters dotting the countryside, cornstalks falling to the onslaught of the machines’ gnashing teeth.

  In the front seat of her mom’s car, Steph was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice any of the changes. She couldn’t stop thinking about everything that was happening. Everything that felt confusing and so out of her control.

  The scoreboard crashing. The message on the locker room mirror. Coming out to Elena. Calvin’s drawings. And Steph’s feelings for Mary. Mary, who couldn’t possibly be the demon. Mary, the girl of her dreams. She didn’t want to believe Elena’s accusations. She couldn’t.

  Steph jolted forward in her seat as something prodded her in the back. She tried to settle back down but the poking persisted until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Stop kicking my seat!” Steph snapped as she whipped around and gave her brother a death glare. His legs twitched, but quit bouncing as he stuck his tongue out at her and turned to stare out the window.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  Steph did her best to ignore the side look her mother gave her from the driver’s seat.

  “It’s nothing,” she mumbled.

  “You’ve been in a mood all weekend,” her mom pressed.

  “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Are you having nightmares? Is it the accident?” Steph’s mom did her best to keep her eyes on the road despite her concern. “Do you want to talk about it, honey?”

  No, Steph didn’t want to talk about it. And it wasn’t like she could. She could hardly believe the whole Bloody Mary story herself. The second she mentioned that a demon was haunting her, her mom would think she was crazy and probably schedule a meeting with the pastor at their church.

  “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

  Her mom gave her another sideways glance like she didn’t want to drop it, but then cursed under her breath and jerked the steering wheel to the side, almost missing their turn.

  “We’re here.” She tried to play it cool as she came to a stop in the parking lot. In the back seat, Jamie cheered, though Steph couldn’t tell if it was from the roller-coaster turn or because they’d arrived.

  “Now, your aunt is going to pick you up in a couple of hours,” Steph’s mom said. “So have your phone on you. And keep an eye out for Jamie. Don’t let him wander off.”

  “Got it, Mom,” Steph replied. She didn’t love the idea of babysitting her annoying little brother, but she couldn’t say no. Not when her mom had picked up an extra shift. Steph’s Sunday afternoon was a minor sacrifice. So she pushed her shoulder into the car door and stepped outside, standing next to Jamie, who had already clambered out.

  “And try to have some fun,” her mom called, leaning into the passenger’s seat to get a better look at her kids. “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  This last bit was clearly meant for Steph, and she tried to believe it as she shut the car door, waving goodbye as her mom headed out.

  “All right, Jamie.” Steph turned to give her brother the ground rules, but he’d already taken off, making a beeline for a group of kids gathered around a picnic table over by the barn doors. Steph could only sigh and start after him.

  As she walked, the wind blew past her and through the trees overhead. The branches shivered from the cold, creaking as they did their best to hold on to their last leaves. And so did Steph, the air racing underneath her jacket, chilling her to the bone. She squeezed her arms against her body and tried to keep every bit of warmth she had as she approached the group of kids buzzing ahead of her, their talk filled with excitement for hayrides and pumpkin picking. Running through the corn maze. Getting their faces painted with bats and skeletons and ghosts. Halloween was only a week away, and the pumpkin patch had kicked thi
ngs into high gear.

  A few of the parents nodded as Steph joined the cluster of nine-year-old boys. She’d chaperoned Jamie at enough of these birthday parties for them to recognize her, even though none of them ever really tried talking to her. Which was fine. She didn’t know what to say to a bunch of middle-aged moms anyway. And she had plenty on her mind already. Starting with Elena.

  The girl knew her secret.

  Why hadn’t Steph lied? It would have been so easy to deny it. But a part of her felt relief in that confession. In finally saying those words out loud. It was the first time she’d admitted that she liked girls. That she was gay. It felt good, even left her a bit giddy.

  But what about Mary?

  Steph couldn’t help but feel sick thinking about Calvin’s notebook. The pictures of Mary transforming into the demon. It didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t have fallen for a demon, could she? Mary wasn’t this malignant spirit haunting them. Which made Steph wonder—

  What did the demon want?

  To kill them, obviously. It’d already come for both Elena and Steph. And Calvin’s drawings made it clear that it had plans for Grace as well. But was there something else it needed from them?

  If only Steph knew German. Then she could read that storybook and maybe make some sense out of all this. But as it was, she didn’t have a clue. She was defenseless. Which terrified her. It was like going up against an opponent on the court without having scouted them. Without a game plan. If they picked the wrong strategy, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

  A shiver ran up Steph’s spine and she blinked, coming out of her thoughts and suddenly realizing she didn’t know where she was. Stalks of corn a couple of heads taller than her crowded in on both sides. But luckily, she spotted the rest of the group up ahead. She hurried to catch them, chastising herself for spacing out. She didn’t even remember walking into the corn maze. There was no way she’d be able to find her way out on her own.

  When she got to the kids and moms, her eyes swung around the group, looking for her little brother. She did a double take, counting them off this time, panic fluttering in her chest. Because Jamie wasn’t there.