Mary, Will I Die?

by Shawn Sarles

  “I think I’m ready,” Grace muttered.

  “Good. Good.” Elena waved her off, her eyes gleaming as a text message lit up her phone. Finally. “I’ll be right back.”

  And before Grace could ask the question, Elena scurried out of the room, her heart beating quicker in her chest as she descended the stairs. Her plan was actually coming together.

  “You made it,” Elena exclaimed, slightly out of breath as she swung the front door open and found Mary there on the porch.

  “You invited me,” Mary replied with a shrug as she finished snapping her helmet around the handlebars of her bike, which she’d leaned up against the railing.

  “Come in,” Elena said, sticking her arm out like a lure. And Mary bit.

  “Thanks for doing this on such short notice,” Mary said. “I’m hoping to get the story done before you all head off to the district championships next week.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Elena replied, showing Mary where she could toss her coat. The interview request had actually saved Elena the trouble of coming up with a lie. If they were doing the ritual to trap the demon back in its mirror, they needed the demon to be there in the first place. “We can talk in my room.”

  And as Mary nodded, Elena led the way, heading up the stairs and into her grandmother’s room, snapping the door shut quickly behind them.

  “What’s all this?” Mary jolted to a stop and Elena nearly ran into her. “Are you all having a sleepover? Trying to perform a séance?”

  She had her notebook and pen out, and Elena could tell that she seemed more intrigued than frightened by the scene.

  “Do you put hexes on your opponents or something? Is that your secret to winning?”

  Elena ignored Mary’s joking question and turned to Grace. “We’re ready?”

  But Mary’s appearance had thrown Grace off.

  “What’s she doing here?” Grace stammered. “You promised it’d just be us.”

  “You want to save Calvin, don’t you?” Elena pressed, her voice sharp, leaving no room for argument.

  “Save who from what?” Mary butted in, but Elena didn’t pay any attention to her. Instead, she floated across the room and took hold of the sheet covering the mirror. She yanked and it fell away, revealing the broken glass, more menacing than ever in the half-light, its shards wickedly sharp teeth ready to devour them all.

  “Just read the spell,” Elena commanded, speaking directly to Grace.

  “What is all this?” Mary asked, sounding suddenly concerned.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know.” Elena turned on her. “I’m putting you back where you belong. You’re not going to hurt anyone else.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Elena almost believed the girl’s big doe eyes. The way her voice quivered with confusion. But she wasn’t stupid. The demon was a trickster. Her grandmother had warned her of that. Elena wouldn’t be fooled again.

  “I’m getting out of here,” Mary said, turning toward the door.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  And Elena launched herself across the room, pushing the girl up against the wall, using every inch of her small stature to pin Mary there.

  “What the—” Mary started to shout, but Elena clapped her hand over the girl’s mouth before she could finish.

  “What are you doing to her?” Grace cried.

  “Read the spell,” Elena shouted.

  “But—” Grace stuttered, clearly torn.

  “Trust me. We have to put her back where she belongs.”

  Grace wavered for another second.

  “She’s the demon, Grace. Don’t you see that? She showed up the day after I broke the mirror. Calvin drew her transformation in his notebook. I let her out and now we have to put her back in.”

  The explanation shot out of Elena’s mouth. She didn’t have time for Grace’s doubt or indecision.

  “Don’t you want to save Calvin?”

  And with that, reluctantly, Grace turned back to the mirror. She started the spell.

  As she read the incantation out loud, Elena watched, digging her feet into the floorboards, using her legs to keep Mary’s squirming body from escaping. The words were in a language that Elena couldn’t begin to understand. But as they spilled out of Grace’s mouth, something in the room shifted. Everything went still. The mirror seemed suddenly to take up every inch of space. It seemed to come alive. The glass pulsed with a fireside warmth, and the filigree detail running around its edge lit up, the letters of the forgotten language glowing as Grace read them, making a slow circle around the mirror’s face.

  A wind whipped through the room, tossing Elena’s hair into her face. It flooded her ears like she was caught in a tornado. The windows rattled in their panes. The whole house seemed to shake. Elena thought they might be blown apart completely.

  And then Grace finished the incantation. The last letters on the mirror glowed to life and completed the circle. The wind died down as suddenly as it’d started up and it was like they’d entered the eye of the storm, the mirror humming with light, glowing white hot.

  Behind Elena, Mary bucked, kicking harder now, biting down on Elena’s palm. Elena shouted but held on tight. This was it. She was going to put the demon back. She was going to lock it away and complete her grandmother’s legacy. She worked her arms around Mary’s shoulders and managed to spin her around, putting her closer to the mirror, the light pouring out of its face so bright it blinded them all.

  “You’re going back where you belong,” Elena grimaced, her teeth gritted as she held Mary firm, pushing her forward one labored step at a time. “You’re not going to hurt anyone ever again.”

  She was almost there. She gathered her strength for the final thrust. She closed her eyes and steeled her arms. She prepared herself to end this. But then Grace gasped. Elena’s focus broke and she looked to the girl just ahead of her, saw confusion on Grace’s face. Shock. Disbelief. Elena’s gaze slid to the mirror and her heart stopped.

  The white light glared for one more second, and then it dimmed, revealing a sheet of unbroken glass. And when it did, Elena felt her own scream come ripping up her throat.

  It couldn’t be. She’d followed her grandmother’s note. She’d found the key in the mirror. She was putting the escaped demon back.

  But then how could she explain the thing staring back at them, bloody palms pressed to the other side of the now unbroken glass? How could she make sense of those murderous eyes? Those teeth bared behind a wicked grin? How could she put the demon, Mary, back in the mirror if the demon was already there behind the glass?

  “No. No. No.” Elena heard herself saying out loud. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t have been wrong.

  The mirror flashed bright, and this time it pulsed with a scorching heat, so hot that Elena had to turn away. When she looked back, her jaw dropped, but she was too afraid to let out a sound. The demon had pressed its face to the glass, its palms leaving smeared red handprints as it started to climb through the mirror. Grace leapt off the floor and scurried back to join Elena, the same fear in her eyes, in the what-have-we-done panic there.

  What had they done?

  Elena let go of Mary, the girl trembling from head to toe, frozen in disbelief and terror. Elena had roped her into this, too. She’d messed everything up.

  Had the demon manipulated her this whole time? What had she been thinking? Flirting with random boys who turned out to be twelve-year-olds? Arguing with Henry? Fighting with Steph over the volleyball team? Convincing her that Mary was a demon? Why hadn’t she seen through the tricks? How could she have been so wrong? How could she have lost?

  A cackle rang through the room, creeping along the walls and floorboards like spiders with their eight scurrying legs. Elena’s eyes grew big as she spotted the demon, floating there in front of them, completely free from the mirror. The tattered hem of its dress skimmed the ground. Its eyes glowed red, malicious and trained on Elena’s face.


  You don’t look happy to see me.

  The voice sounded so familiar, like Elena had been hearing it her entire life. It wasn’t harsh or ugly, but somehow soothing. It swept her up. Drew her along. Lulled her to sleep.

  But she couldn’t let herself be fooled. This was the demon talking. This was evil. She had to remember that.

  “You’re not welcome here,” Elena stuttered, squeezing the air through her lungs, barely getting the sound out. “No one invited you. Leave us alone.”

  It was your ancestor who first called on me.

  Elena shook her head. Her grandmother had said their family had locked the demon away. They had guarded against her return. They hadn’t summoned her.

  I see you don’t want to believe, little girl. But it’s true. Your ancestor called on me because she wanted to take what her prettier sister had. Her looks. Her position. Her husband.

  Elena shut her eyes and tried to block out the lies. They couldn’t be true. Her family couldn’t have brought this on themselves. She remembered the illustrations from the fairy tale book—the handmaiden working at the lady’s feet, eventually replacing her, the bloody footprints leading to the mirror—and they suddenly all made sense.

  Jealousy. Vanity. Fear. It makes humans so easy to control.

  “No,” Elena shouted, desperation flooding her voice. “What do you even want from me?”

  The demon’s lips split into a mirthful smile, another laugh spilling out of her, terrible in its glee. In the way it sounded certain that it’d already won.

  Silly girl, I already have what I need from you. You brought me her.

  And Elena gulped as the demon pointed a bony finger toward Mary, who had frozen on the spot.

  Thank you for delivering my new vessel.

  Elena’s head whipped back and forth between the demon and the girl, not understanding.

  “Vessel?”

  My new host. I can only inhabit someone who has been given in sacrifice. And you’ve brought this girl right to me. Just as planned.

  “You can’t—” Elena stumbled over her words as she looked at Mary, who had backed up against the wall now, too shocked and too afraid to escape on her own. Paralyzed. Elena saw it all so clearly now. The way the demon had sprinkled in suspicion and used her rivalry against Steph. The way it’d planted the seeds of doubt, manipulated Elena to this point.

  “I take it back,” Elena shouted. “You can’t have her.”

  It’s too late for that. You’ve made your decision.

  “No. You can’t have her,” Elena screamed, overwhelmed by it all. Desperate and afraid. Out of ideas. “Run, Mary!”

  And this seemed to jolt the girl out of her daze. She pushed off the wall and made for the bedroom door. But before she could reach it, the demon appeared at her side, moving faster than Elena could see. It seized Mary’s wrist and lifted her off the ground, dangling her there a foot above the floorboards, unfazed as the girl twisted and cried to get loose.

  Be thankful it’s this easy.

  But Elena could only shake her head, tears leaking from her eyes. It wasn’t easy. It was still a life given up.

  Your ancestor would have sacrificed her own flesh and blood, but her daughter found out. She turned on her and trapped me in here. Would you not give me this girl? Someone you barely even know?

  And Elena suddenly understood her family’s history. Why they’d taken on this burden. Why she had to take it up now. Her great-great-great-whatever-grandmother had started it all, had summoned the demon out of jealousy and resentment, had been willing to sacrifice her own child to keep her youth and beauty.

  But that daughter had stopped her. And their family had guarded over the mirror as a kind of penance ever since, a way to make amends for the evil their ancestor had brought into the world. Elena couldn’t let that legacy down. She wouldn’t be the failure in her family line.

  “You can’t have her,” Elena growled, and she took a step toward the demon. She had to save Mary.

  You think you can stop me?

  And as Elena moved closer, she felt a sudden weight press down on her shoulders. Her knees buckled and she almost crashed to the floor. A sickly sweet perfume wafted under her nose and clawed its way down her throat, filling her lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. She gasped for fresh oxygen. She struggled to stay upright as panic numbed her whole body. As Mary’s screams filled her ears.

  How was she supposed to stop a demon?

  Elena’s eyes fell to the side, looking to Grace, who was sitting there on the floor, her notes spread out all around her. She looked dazed and confused, like she’d bumped her head. Could she have a magic potion in her bag? Or a vanquishing spell hidden in her little book? Could Elena find a stake to drive through the demon’s heart? Would that even work? Or was that only vampires?

  Give up. It’s hopeless. I already have what I need.

  And with that, the demon turned its attention to Mary. It lifted its free hand to the girl’s face, spreading its gnarled fingers over her cheeks. Mary shrieked as the demon dug its nails into her forehead, pressing her eyes open wide so that she couldn’t turn away or hide.

  “No,” Elena whimpered, her energy spent, that weight still pressing down on her shoulders, her lungs still struggling to breathe.

  She had to figure something out. She couldn’t do nothing. But as Mary’s whole body began to writhe in pain, as her cries grew more desperate and ragged, Elena realized she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t stop the demon. She couldn’t save Mary. She was a failure. A loser.

  With trembling fingers, she reached up to her neck and pulled on the thin silver chain. She fished her grandmother’s locket out and stared at it, opening the clasp to look in at the picture of her ancestor, catching her reflection for a second in the miniature mirror there.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and then she dipped her head in defeat, trying to block out Mary’s screams. It was too late.

  But just then, the bedroom door flew open. Two figures stood there for a moment, taking in the scene. Then they raced inside, Calvin’s glasses glinting as he crouched to check on Grace and Steph’s tall frame ramming full speed into the demon, knocking Mary loose from its grip.

  “You can’t take her!” Steph bellowed as she threw her arms out wide to cover Mary’s body crumpled there on the floor. And Elena couldn’t help but look at this girl with awe. She couldn’t help but wonder when Steph had gotten so much braver than her.

  Steph’s arms quivered, the adrenaline drying up fast as her muscles screamed. What in the world had she walked in on?

  Halloween had come a day early. And this thing in front of her—this grim reaper—wasn’t a man in a costume and makeup. Those fangs weren’t fake. That tangled hair wasn’t a wig. Those bloodstains weren’t ketchup mixed with corn syrup. It was all so very real. And it was trying to kill Mary. Her Mary.

  Steph sneaked a glance behind her at the girl, who was lying in a whimpering heap on the floor, her wrist cradled close to her chest.

  Step aside.

  Steph’s head snapped around at the demon’s voice, and she felt her shoulder throb where she’d just run into it.

  You can’t keep me from my prize.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Steph whispered, keeping Mary at her back. “I won’t let it hurt you.”

  What do you think you can do?

  Steph’s pupils widened as the demon called her out.

  You forget. I know your thoughts. Your heart. Your desires. I know you better than you know yourself. You’re not strong enough to beat me.

  A brittle cold seeped into the room, like Steph had plunged into an ice bath. Her arms grew heavier, and a weight pressed down on her chest. Her exhale sent a burst of frost into the air.

  The demon had been in Steph’s head for five years now. Ever since she’d stared into that stupid mirror. And in that time it’d seen her daydreams and darkest secrets. It knew her weaknesses and limitations. It knew her.

 
“I believe in you,” Mary murmured, finding her voice even though she still couldn’t get to her feet. It looked like she’d hurt her ankle, too, when the monster had dropped her.

  As the words trickled into Steph’s ears, a new hope ignited in her chest. Because the demon wasn’t the only one who knew her. Hadn’t she come out to Elena and Mary? Hadn’t she finally come out to herself? If she could do that—what used to be the scariest thing imaginable—then what did she have to be afraid of now? She couldn’t lose this. She couldn’t lose Mary.

  “You can’t have her!” Steph shouted.

  And before the demon could reply, she lunged forward and grabbed the only weapon she could find—one of Elena’s mom’s decorative wooden scarecrows—off the dresser. She leveled it at the demon, knowing she must look stupid. But it was all she had. And a club was a club. The wooden figurine certainly felt heavy enough in her hand. She darted forward, swiping left and right. Keeping up the attack. Moving as fast as she could.

  The demon danced away from each blow, avoiding them with ease. Its cruel laughter rang out through the room, taunting Steph, letting her know just how useless this all was. But Steph couldn’t give up. She couldn’t back down. She swung and swung and swung, her shoulder throbbing, the scarecrow growing heavier with each failed attack. Her breaths came shorter, and a pain opened up in her side until the demon suddenly reached out and caught her by the wrist, apparently tired of the game.

  The demon’s gaze met Steph’s, holding it for a prolonged second. A fresh bloody tear slipped down its cheek. And then the demon lifted its other hand, a gust of wind pounding into Steph’s chest, curling around her, crushing her in its grip. She shot backward, and the world exploded in bright, white pain as she slammed into the wall and slid to the floor, the demon turning its attention back on Mary.

  “No.” Steph grimaced, the air wheezing in and out of her lungs as she clawed her way forward, putting her body in front of Mary’s again.

  Didn’t I warn you?