Bloody Mary

In the dead of night, she waits in growing anticipation. The clock on the nightstand illuminates the room with an eerie green glow as it blares the time, 11:59. The silence is deafening, the darkness blinding as she waits for the final seconds to disappear. The haunting hollow ring of the old grandfather clock downstairs pierces the empty darkness as it slowly counts to twelve. Only seconds later, the bright green numbers on the nightstand change to 12:00.

Her heart skips a beat as she rises to her feet and strolls in the direction of her mirror. Her own wide eyes stared back at her from the reflective glass. Should she or should she not? The question reverberated in her mind. Shaking away any doubts, she went through with it. It was just a myth, what could possibly happen?

Her confidence restored, she began. In a low murmur barely audible to even her own ears, she chants, "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary." After the third repetition, her breath caught in her throat as she waited for the worst. Tense moments passed and nothing happened. Unsure whether to be disappointed or relieved, she turns to go, but is stopped by a cold pressure on her shoulder. Her heart flutters, and she hesitantly turns to see her nightmares come to life.

The reflection in the mirror is no longer hers. Instead of wide terrified eyes, vacant, haunting black eyes stared back. Its jaw was hanging open, blood seeping from the corners of the mouth. Tangled hair dangles in its face.

She knew in an instant her call had been heard.

She screams as loud as her lungs will allow as the reflection's hand moved from her shoulder and began clawing at her face. She shrieked louder and louder until her throat burns as her face is torn away. She wonders why no one hears her, but by then it is too late.

Her faceless remains were found the next morning, sprawled before the mirror with these words carved in the glass:

Bloody Mary

Bloody Mary

Bloody Mary