74 BLOODY MARY  

jasonabadboy4u 29M
48 posts
6/17/2006 1:38 am
74 BLOODY MARY

74 BLOODY MARY
This story is dedicated to the metallic song sanitarium from their album master of puppets and the documentary movie paradise lost, and truth or dare, check them out.
It all began as a dare. We could have spent the evening like Halloweens past-playing dumb pranks on one another, or necking in the bedrooms. Doing all those forbidden things we would brag about the next day we had done. But you wouldn't have been happy with that. Not at your parents' house. Not at YOUR Halloween party. When the last of the cheesy horror movies ran out, and it was clear that we had nothing to say to one another that hadn't been said at school that day, or have anything else better to do, you suggested something new and different. You got out that old book of spooky folk legends that you had bought at a used books store. "Maybe we could spook ourselves reading them aloud?" you said. What fun we all thought at first. So we all sat around reading about The Vanishing Hitch Hiker, The Killer in the back seat, the child molester dressed as Santa, Lover's Lane, The Headless Horseman. Acting like we were really scared by all this nonsense. When the book circled around to you, you read your favorite, the legend of Bloody Mary:
Bloody Mary "Who's real name was Sarah Go ode" was a seventeenth-century witch. Who sold her soul to Satan for supernatural powers. Every Halloween, until she was caught and burned at the stake, she renewed her pact by sacrificing an infant from her village before a mirror, where the face of Satan would appear. At midnight on Halloween, if you are alone in front of a mirror, in a darkened room, and say the name "Bloody Mary" five times in succession, you'll see the face of Satan. No one said anything as you slowly closed the book. Everyone was thinking the same thing. Was it just coincidence that you had given your little performance at a quarter to midnight on Bloody Mary's night? The only problem was, no one wanted to try it. Of course, we all joked about what a stupid superstition it was. The story made no sense. It was so pointless there was no reason to try it out. A little ridicule goes a long way toward propping up the weak struts of one's courage, doesn't it? If I hadn't snorted the loudest, perhaps you all would have dared someone else. But I was never one to keep my feelings inside, and I had already had enough bullying at school in my life to lower my conscious. Besides, as you all bravely assured me, if the story was really so unbelievable, there was nothing to worry about. Right? So we all trotted to your bedroom. It wasn't the only room in the house with a mirror, but it got you all hot and bothered, the possibility of something evil being born though your bedroom mirror. Imagine something wicked watching you while you think that your were alone, getting undressed. Or better yet watching you masturbate. It got you excited. I took the black candle you had bought for decoration and solemnly swore, as I closed the door, that I would wait until the church bell began tolling midnight to say what I had to, and that I would say it loud enough for you all to hear. There's not much more to tell you that you don't already know--is there? With the candle lighting my face from beneath my chin and making it look like a demonic ghost trick-or treat mask, I fixed my eyes on the mirror. When the first stroke of midnight struck, I said "Bloody Mary". It came out as a croak that could barely be heard, so I swallowed hard and said it again. Bloody Mary My Eyes didn't even blink. The next time, I said it louder Bloody Mary! Maybe it was my imagination, but the candle seemed to flicker a bit, hollowing the look off my eyes into dark pools, as I said it a fourth time. BLOODY MARY! I waited just a moment then. I wanted to tease you all so that you might feel just a bit of the apprehension I felt, all by myself following through on a fool's bet in that dark room. I wanted you to wonder if my nerves would fail. So I waited until the final stroke of midnight, before screaming it out the final time: " BLOODY MARY!" I don't know what I was expecting: A puff of smoke, the smell of fire and brimstone, the operatic moans and howls of the hounds of hell. But there was nothing so dramatic. Just the all-too-honest reflecting surface of the polished glass before me. Outside, in the hallway, someone screamed--solely for effect, it seems. All the rest of you giggled obnoxiously in relief. It must have been about a minute before one of you called out my name. Perhaps another half minute before someone pounded on the door, making me come back to my senses. None of my greatly concerned friends believed the legend any more than I did. But no one wanted to be the first person to open the door. Did they? When I flung the door wide open, you should have seen the startled looks on your faces. Like a bunch of trick-or-relaters who had seen a real ghost. It didn't take much persuasion to convince you all that the experience had been an abysmal bore. And that now it was time to get on with the real partying. After I found a clown mask just laying around and put it on, I killed the first of you an hour later. It was appallingly easy. Add the element of surprise to a little pressure from the thumbs and the average windpipe crushes like a paper cup. Two of you were out in the pool, skinny dipping and having sex, So The dark thought in my mind told me to take a high powered rifle with a silencer, Stuck it through the privacy fence, and aimed it at your heads and pulled the trigger. Those deaths were quick, but no less satisfying to my master Satan. The loud, black death music, being played on the radio outside, helped to consume the loud blasts. Next, I took the same rifle to a dark room in the house. A movie projector was being played, showing an old S and AM movie. A girl was too busy giving her friend head. I stood from the doorway behind your friends. They didn't even see it coming. I yelled, "Surprise." And pulled the trigger three more times. I continued on, room to room, showing you all just how easy it was. Some of you had to be lulled first with the stupid small talk that passes as important conversation between yourselves. But it didn't take much to get each of you alone. And in the final moments of your last breaths, I showed each of you just how vulnerable you were, how dreadful the horrors of Halloween night could be. The last one was your sister. I found her in the shower and dragged her out and into her bedroom. I used her pillow. Can you imagine what must have been going through her mind as she struggled beneath the very cushion she had comfortably gone to sleep on every night for all these years? Dreaming about all the possibilities of her future? "Pleasant Dreams" I whispered to her. And now it's your turn. You became aware of the horrors that were occurring in your house when you walked into another bedroom. You saw somebody sitting alone in a rocking chair, with a blood stained sheet over them. Thinking it was just a cruel prank, you laughed to yourself as you pulled off the bed sheet coffin. Your scream was like a sweet funeral lullaby to me. Now, you're the only one left, and I know you're here, somewhere. Maybe you're in the back of one of the closets, whimpering a prayer that I won't find you. Maybe you've holed up in some secret hiding place you've known about since childhood and are damning me to Hell, hoping I'll grow tired of this game we're playing and just leave you alone. This is a big house. But I am very thorough. You've been very patient as I've gone around blocking the doors behind me and wedging the windows shut. I didn't hear a peep out of you, even though you must have known that each scrape of wood, each rattle of metal meant another escape route closed off. Maybe you've accepted that there is no escape. And that what's going to happen is as inevitable as--well, as inevitable as Halloween giving way to All Saints Day. Or as its known to others as The Day Of The Dead. Because you've been such a good sport about this, I'm going to tell you something. Something none of the others knew, though they might have had an inkling in their last moments. Finally, the last of the lights are either turned off or are broken and I hear a shrill gasp as you hear the sound of a power drill turned on. Your screams become mind piercing as the last of your protective barriers are removed. You stare at a figure standing over you, silhouetted in the darkness. Suddenly, my hands close around your throat. I want you to look me in my eyes. Then you'll know what I discovered all by myself in that dark room, that you all forced me into. Staring innocently in that revealing mirror. You don't need a candle. You don't need a mirror. You don't even need to chant, Bloody Mary. Look straight at me, and do you know what you'll see? You'll see the face of pure evil!


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