I quickly shoved my books into my locker, though I still managed to be the last one to the parking lot. I stiffened seeing my friends together by Jess’s car, expecting more static, but the hours apart must have mended the rift. Kitty was talking, Anna was nodding, and Jess was smiling. I wouldn’t question how it happened. I was too relieved.
“Let’s do this,” Jess said when I approached. She opened the trunk of the car so I could throw my bag in with everyone else’s. Kitty and Anna slid into the backseat while I buckled myself into the front. Jess peeled out of the parking lot with a spin of wheels and flying grit.
Anna had the house to herself until her parents came home from work, so we crashed at her place for the second day in a row. Anna opened the front door while Jess rummaged around in her trunk for supplies. There was a big box of kosher salt, a beeswax candle, a compass, and the red notebook.
Kitty and Anna went upstairs to take a small break before we got started, but not Jess. She went right at it. She dropped her stuff in the sink and removed the pictures from the wall—a Sasaki family portrait from some camping trip and a Starry Night lithograph. She hadn’t done this the last time we’d summoned Bloody Mary. I watched her stack the pictures on the bottom step, curious.
“It’s a precaution. The frames are shiny. Like, you can see yourself in them,” she said. “I don’t want Mary to come through in a weird place.”
I grabbed the portrait to look into the brass frame, my distorted reflection peering back at me. “Does it work like that? Like, she can be summoned somewhere other than a mirror?” I asked, horrified at the idea of Mary’s appearing in places she didn’t belong.
“I won’t take any risks. I told you I was being safe.”
I watched Jess arrange the candle and grab the salt before flipping open her notebook. Everything she did was so organized, and I tried to find solace in her system, but my stomach clenched. The ritual worked because Jess was so careful. These precautions weren’t for safety so much as for success.
I wanted to bail right then, but leaving would infuriate Jess. I’d be mad at myself, too, I supposed. “I had the chance to see Bloody Mary but I settled for her hands” felt pathetic. I didn’t want to be that person. I took a deep breath and replaced the family picture on the step. One good look at Mary and I’d be done. I just had to swallow my nerves and go for it.
I could handle it. I’d be fine.
“Hey, can you go get me a water? I’m thirsty,” Jess said, interrupting my thoughts.
“Sure,” I said.
I could hear Anna and Kitty in the kitchen murmuring, and I wondered if they were feeling the same way I was, that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I crested the top step and peered at them. They were standing side by side near the kitchen sink, their heads tilted together. Kitty looked pale; Anna looked angry.
“Everything cool?” I asked.
Kitty nodded; Anna scowled.
“I’m not so sure I want to do this again. I don’t want to be afraid of my bathroom forever,” Anna said.
“Do you want to be the one to tell Jess that?” Kitty asked. I pointed at Kitty as if to say That before opening the fridge for Jess’s water.
Anna shrugged. “I really don’t care. She’d get over it. I just…I don’t know. This seems like a bad idea.”
“It’s a terrible idea,” I said. “But I do kind of want to see Mary’s face. I mean, just to finish it. We never have to do it again.”
Anna lifted her glasses to rub her eyes, her mouth puckered like she’d smelled something bad. A moment later her shoulders dropped and the glasses slid back onto her nose. She shook her head and shouldered past me to get out of the kitchen. “Fine. Let’s get it over with, but I hate you all a little right now.”
The three of us went downstairs looking like we were marching to our executions. By the time we crowded the hallway outside of the bathroom, Jess had finished with the salt and was skimming her notebook one last time, the compass in her left hand. I offered her the water and she pointed at the side of the tub, indicating I should leave it there.
“I’m making a small modification to the positioning this time,” she said. “Kitty, you come stand here.” She motioned at the spot Jess had taken the first time, next to the vanity. Kitty squeezed past her, frowning that she was now closest to the mirror. She opened her mouth to protest, but Jess cast her a sharp look and Kitty kept quiet.
“I can stand there,” I offered, but Jess shook her head.
“No, you’re going to be where you were. Kitty’s going north to the vanity, Anna south to the tub, and I’ll take the linen closet so I can see better.” I’d still be holding Kitty’s hand this time, just on the opposite side. I eyed her, hoping she wouldn’t spaz out again. She looked nervous, but not nauseated like yesterday. Maybe that was a sign we were in the clear. Jess would be on her other side this time, too, and I knew she’d be a little better at reining Kitty in than Anna had been.
We wedged into our positions looking nervous and grim. I had a terrible case of the jitters, adrenaline pounding through my body. Jess leaned past Kitty to light the candle before flicking off the lights. Anna let out a shuddering gasp, Kitty groaned, and I held my breath as Jess fell into place opposite me. We were ready.
“Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. BLOODY MARY,” Jess shouted.
The candle on the vanity cast eerie shadows, our forms tall and distorted against the walls. Our hands were clenched together so tightly, our fingers trembled. This time, it took only seconds for condensation to cover the glass. A thick fog swirled, gray tendrils of smoke spinning in a maelstrom, before a black figure appeared, the vague outline of a woman. I braced myself, expecting more of the slow, shambling gait we’d seen last time.
SLAM.
Mary moved fast. One moment she was distant, the next her hands smacked against the mirror. Her fingers flexed, and then the clawing began, a shrieking squeal of razors cutting across glass. I jerked back, forcing myself to maintain the handhold. There’d been no noise during the last summoning. Now, the sound was undeniable.
“Why? Why can we hear her?” I asked, my voice warbling.
“I changed a few things around. Watch,” Jess replied, her voice barely above a whisper as Mary’s hands slid down the mirror. The fog thinned, and for the first time, I saw her. All of her.
She was dead. That wasn’t a surprise, but I hadn’t expected her to be so dead. Her mouth gaped open in a rictus grin, revealing a row of jagged, broken teeth that grayed along the gum line. Her face was gaunt, like her skin had been pulled taut somewhere behind her head. It reminded me of papier-mâché, when the first layers of tissue are on top of the balloon and the colors of the latex underneath are still visible. Except in this case, the balloon was her skull, and the tissue paper was her too-thin flesh. A spidery network of veins pulsed along her temples and upper cheeks.
There was a hiss as her tongue lolled out. It was pasty and white, covered in film and wiggling around like a worm. She raked it over the glass with an awful groan. Her lips were so receded that her teeth clicked against the mirror, the pointy stubs black and yellow with decay.
I tore my gaze away from her mouth and up to her eyes, fathomless black orbs sunk deep into her skull with no lashes, no brows. Patches of skin had peeled away along her forehead and chin. Her nose was nonexistent; the cartilage had rotted, leaving her with two socket holes that oozed a tarlike guck. Her hair was stringy tufts of black on a bumpy, pointed skull. Her cheeks were hollow with sharp, boney edges.
Beside me, Kitty squeezed my fingers for reassurance, and I did the same back, both of us transfixed by the jerky, erratic movements of the ghost behind the mirror. We could still hear the screech of her fingernails, along with something else—a raspy, rattling breathing.
“I…I can hear her. God.” Kitty groaned.
“I know, isn’t it awesome?” Jess asked.
Jess used “awesome” way too loosely.
We kept our eyes fixed on the mirror.
Mary jerked her head to the side to eye Jess. Kitty and I were closer to her, but Mary wasn’t interested in us. Jess had said that she controlled the ritual, that Mary only answered to the summoning voice. Maybe that meant Mary only wanted to see the person who called her, too.
I could see the excitement on Jess’s face. Kitty, Anna, and I wanted to puke, but not Jess. She was happier than I’d seen her in ages. I watched her lean toward the mirror to get a closer look. I wanted to be that cool, that collected.
“Mary, can you hear us? We can hear you,” Jess said.
Mary snapped her jaws and lunged at the glass. The mirror bowed out with her. Jess reared back with a yelp, the first sign of true terror I’d seen from her. Kitty and Anna screamed. I began to hyperventilate. I had no idea what just happened. A mirror was cold glass. It was solid. It shouldn’t move. But this mirror had stretched like a liquid membrane, like Mary was pushing against a sheet of plastic wrap.
“Why? Why? Send it back. Send it back,” Anna wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks now. “Enough. I BELIEVE IN YOU, MARY WORTH.”
“It won’t work from you, it has to be me who dismisses her. Hold on a second,” Jess hissed, licking her lips and squirming. I felt Kitty jerk around and I moved my hand up from her fingers to grip her wrist. If the mirror was moving, we were already in over our heads. Kitty breaking the bond would make the situation worse.
“Mary, if you can hear us, talk to us,” Jess said, her cheeks flushed red, her eyes enormous in her face.
Mary edged forward, pushing herself against the mirror. She tested the gooey mass with awkward hesitance. Her fingertips pressed on the surface, a jagged fingernail poking through, ripples flowing outward from where it emerged.
Part of Mary was no longer in her world, but in ours.
“Oh, my God,” Jess gasped, then barked with laughter. How could she laugh? I’d gone so rigid, you could have replaced my spine with a yardstick. Anna silently wept on one side of me, and Kitty had her eyes snapped shut, murmuring “no, no” and shaking her head.
“Talk to us, Mary. Tell us your story,” Jess continued.
“What are you doing?” I asked as Jess leaned forward to talk to the ghost. Jess was so bold, so sure of herself. It was like she’d known what to expect from Mary, and if she had…
No. She wouldn’t do that. She’d never set us up like that.
“I just want to talk to you. Can you speak, Mary?” Jess prodded.
Mary ignored her, popping another finger through the mirror and cooing as she sent a third, a fourth, and finally a thumb. My throat constricted as Mary’s second hand quickly joined the first. They were now free of her glass prison and waving about, her fingers curling over like talons. Mary rasped and rattled, and when I saw the unnerving look on her face, I realized she was laughing.
What would a ghost have to laugh at? I had no answers. Well, no good answers, anyway.
“Mary, I…We want to know about you,” Jess continued. “About your life. We read your letter to your sister, Constance.”
The moment Jess said Constance’s name, Mary froze. Pain seemed to cross her face, one gruesome expression followed by another. I heard a faint trill from her side of the mirror, like the high-pitched squeal of a mewling kitten. Jess took it to mean she could continue the questioning.
“Yes. We read about Constance!” Jess paused to collect herself. It was clear by her tone that the ghost’s response thrilled her. I jerked my face Jess’s way. She was shaking—almost vibrating. It wasn’t fear pulsing through Jess’s body, it was excitement.
“Jess, stop,” I pleaded, but she ignored me.
“We read about Constance’s marriage and her move to Boston. And how you thought you’d marry a sheep farmer. And we read about Pastor Starkcrowe and Elizabeth.”
“NGGGGAH!” Bloody Mary dove at us, her chittering replaced by furious, punishing bellows. It was hard to tell whether the mention of the pastor, of Elizabeth Hawthorne, or of both had enraged her.
Mary’s face tore through the mirror, twisting and writhing feet away from me. Her jaw snapped like a rabid dog’s, a string of green saliva hanging from her maw like she hungered for flesh. The candlelight was dim, but I could see every fine line on her face. I could see the dead leaves strewn through her dripping wet hair and the pounding black vein in her temple.
And the smell. When Mary crossed into our world, she polluted the air with a scent too sour, too sweet, and too wet. There was earthiness, too, like mud and moss. And rot. So much rot.
“Stop it! This isn’t safe. Send her away,” Anna pleaded. “Please, please.”
“We’re fine. She can’t cross the salt barrier,” Jess snapped. “It’s moved out a little, but she still can’t cross it. Look. Look!”
I looked. The salt line was there, but Jess hadn’t put it flush to the glass like last time. The line was five or six inches away from the bottom frame of the mirror. Was Jess trying to coax Mary out?
If so, Jess and I were going to have some serious problems.
But first, the ghost.
Mary let out an angry shriek. We reared as far from the mirror as the tiny bathroom would allow, clinging to one another’s hands in desperation. Kitty wriggled like she had during the last summoning. I slid my fingers up to her elbow, gripping hard as she gasped in surprised pain.
“J-Jess, I c-can’t…make it stop,” Anna stammered.
But Jess was relentless. As she watched Mary test her new freedoms, her smile was gone but her expression was no less intense.
Mary pushed her arms through the glass, her left hand reaching toward the wall, smearing her palm over the beige tiles. The sludge from her open wound drizzled down the crevices of the grout.
Mary rolled her head, shifting her gaze among the four of us, hissing and flicking her tongue. She peered down at the salt line and groaned before reaching her desiccated fingers toward it. The tip of her middle finger grazed the line. Mary screeched, snatching her hand back, like she’d been burned. She ducked behind the mirror with a growl, crouching so we could only see the top of her head and the few fingers she’d looped over the bottom of the mirror’s frame. A puddle of water pooled on the counter from where she’d been leaning, tendrils of it snaking its way toward the salt line.
“Almost done, I swear,” Jess said. “Mary, can you speak? Can you say something before you have to go?”
Mary’s eyes darted to Jess’s face. I watched her mouth open. Her lips twitched, like she was trying to make a word, and formed a cracked, misshapen little O.
“You can do it. Tell us,” Jess said, encouraging Mary with the gentleness of her tone. Jess tried to move closer to the mirror, but Anna yanked back on her arm, keeping Jess pinned against the opposite wall. Jess snarled, but Anna kept her hold even when Jess jerked Anna forward, forcing them closer to the ghost.
Mary’s mouth wavered, her lips still puckered. Despite my terror, I quieted. I wanted to hear Mary, too. Mary stood to lean from the mirror, her head popping through the liquid glass as she moaned. Her lips quivered and receded, showing her broken teeth and worm-riddled gums.
Puff.
Mary blew out the candle on the vanity with a tiny puff of fetid air, plunging us into blackness. We screamed, but it was Jess’s voice that rang the loudest. “I BELIEVE IN YOU, MARY WORTH.”
The bathroom went silent. My heart pounded in my ears, my temples threatening to splinter apart. I wanted to be somewhere where the light never faded. I wanted to erase the name Bloody Mary forever. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive Jess. She’d put us up to this. She’d moved the salt line. Every awful feeling swarming inside of me was Jess’s fault.
“Never. Never again. Do you hear me? Never again, Jess. You’re lucky if I’ll ever talk to you again.” Anna sniffled and began to cry, heart-wrenching sobs.
Jess sighed into the darkness. “Come on, guys. We’re fine,” she said. “It was scary, but—”
“Turn on the light,” I yelled. A rivulet of sweat coursed down m
y face and over my cheek. I was drenched in sweat. I dropped Kitty’s hand to brush my forehead against the back of my arm.
I never should have let Kitty go.
A wail ripped through the room. Mary was there. Somehow, some way, Jess’s dismissal didn’t work. Maybe it was because the candle was snuffed out. Maybe it was because the salt line was moved, or maybe Mary’s murky water had melted through the defense. Whatever the case, without the handhold in place, there were no protective wards left to contain the beast. Kitty scrambled away before I could stop her, stumbling into a wall with a pained thud. I was now closest to the mirror.
Closest to Mary.
Jess flicked on the bathroom light just as Mary’s claws raked down my shoulders. It was razor blades through butter, bloody cuts splitting my flesh in crimson tracks. I tried to flinch away, but Bloody Mary reached around my front and jerked me off my feet, dragging me toward the glass, toward the world we had woken behind Anna Sasaki’s mirror.
I was going in.
I tried to struggle, to wriggle and fight and slap at Mary’s hands, but she’d hooked me too tight. There was no way out. The glass surface rippled and bowed as Mary pulled me in, headfirst, my face pointed at the ceiling. My back struck the sink. I screamed as Mary scraped me across the ledge beneath the mirror, fire shooting along my spine.
Behind me, there was only the ghost and the fog. Mary hoisted me again, and the top of my head crested the surface of the mirror. It slurped on me like a frigid, toothless mouth. Over my forehead, over my brows—the mirror swallowed me into its gullet. Gel flooded my eyes, plunging me into darkness. My friends’ panicked screams cut off as my ears were drawn through the quivering glass.
From chaos to empty silence.
I cried out for help as the undulating liquid spilled into my mouth. Farther in, to my shoulders, my chest. The mirror gel had slipped to my waist and was spilling toward my hips. I held my breath as long as I could, until the desperation for air overwhelmed me. Instinct forced my mouth open again and that sour, brackish water rushed into my throat. I gasped, but only to choke. I was going to drown halfway between Mary’s world and my own.
Mary (Bloody Mary) Page 4