1.4 Bloody Mary: A Supernatural Fan Fiction

Chapter III: Research and Mirrors

CHAPTER III: "Research and Mirrors"

"Alright, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town," Dean mused as they headed through the library with Jay and Sam at his heels. "There's gotta be some sort of proof, right? A local woman who died nasty."

Sam grimaced, not convinced. "Yeah, but a legend this widespread, it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is."

"One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride." Jay put in. "There's a lot more."

Dean glanced over his shoulder at her, then at Sam. "All right, so what are we supposed to be looking for?" He asked in a tired voice.

They entered the room where the receptionist had told them the computers were. Jay noticed something almost immediately, but she said nothing.

"Every version's got a few things in common," Sam pointed out. "It's always a woman named Mary and she always dies in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers, public records, as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill."

Dean snorted unenthusiastically. "Well, that sounds annoying."

"No, it won't be so bad, as long as we—" Sam broke off as Jay tapped his arm, indicating the row of computers. All of them bore handwritten 'Out of Order' signs on their screens. Sam scoffed, his shoulders drooping.

"I take it back," he said. "This will be very annoying."

*

Charlie drove away from Donna's house after helping her clean up from the Wake. She had wanted to stay longer, but they both had classes early in the morning. She couldn't get those two guys from earlier off her mind... Although she wished she hadn't snapped at them. Kind of. So she had to call Jill about it.

"I'm not sure," she was saying into her phone, staring at her headlights on the road ahead. "They were cops or detectives or something."

"Whoever they were, they were cute." Jill said, and Charlie could hear the smirk in her voice. Jill was in her bedroom. She'd also stayed to 'help out', but left a little earlier than Charlie. She shrugged out of her blazer, dropping it on her bed.

"Jill..." Came Charlie's exasperated sigh.

"You didn't think so?" Jill shot back instantly. She knew her friend better than that.

"Yeah, okay, they were cute, but..." Charlie admitted reluctantly, shaking her head. "Still. Do you think something could have happened to Donna's dad?"

"Maybe Lily was right..." Jill said loftily, and despite herself, Charlie's heart wrenched. Jill was loving it. She stalked her room, feeling self-important as she crooned, "Maybe Bloody Mary got him."

"Ha ha, very funny." Charlie said shortly. Jill smiled triumphantly, leaning down onto her bed.

"Wait – I'm sorry, was that fear I hear in your voice?"

Charlie ground her teeth, setting her jaw. She was annoyed, but there was just enough tension to make it dangerous.

"No," she denied a little too fast.

Suddenly Jill got an idea. She got up from her bed, her voice dipping low. "Charlie," she said softly. "I'm walking to the bathroom mirror right now..."

Charlie's grip around the steering wheel tightened. She swallowed. "Jill, quit it!"

But Jill ignored her. She walked right into the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. She didn't bother with turning the light on.

"Oh, no. I can't help myself." Charlie heard her saying, and she felt her stomach growing colder and colder with every word. "I'm gonna say it."

Jill stared at her reflection.

"Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary."

Silence on the other end.

Charlie felt fear begin to steal over her – the kind of fear that in the moment you know is slightly irrational, but it doesn't make it any less toxic.

More silence.

Then Jill screamed.

"Jill!" Charlie cried out, the fear abandoning its irrationality to become full-fledged terror.

Then Jill laughed.

"You're such a freak." She giggled. "I'll call you tomorrow." And with that, she hung up.

Charlie kept the phone to her ear, working her jaw in annoyance. But she couldn't deny that she was a little relieved. She let out a shaky sigh, then snapped shut her cell.

Jill went back out into her bedroom. She turned on some Fall Out Boy, then opened up her closet door and began to undress, not glancing at the mirror that was hung inside the door. If she had, she would have noticed the dark figure standing a few feet behind her.

But she remained oblivious. She put her sweats back in the hamper in her closet, then closed the door. From there she moved to her vanity table, where she unhooked her earrings and put them back in their box. Again she missed the reflection of the eerily motionless silhouette behind her, cast by not only the mirror in front of her, but by the small VHS player that stood by her elbow.

Jill continued to go about her nightly routine, going into the bathroom to wash off her makeup. She leaned down, pumping the soap into the palm of her hand. Her eyes left the mirror for only a second – and she didn't notice that her reflection did not mimic her movements. It stood like a statue, only her eyes following Jill. When Jill looked back up, her reflection's gaze was still on her hands. But then with a sickeningly fluid motion, she turned her head to stare straight into Jill's eyes.

Fear began to bite into her. She stared at her reflection, suddenly becoming very light-headed. She felt pressure behind her eyes. She saw and felt the thick, warm tear of blood drip down her cheek. Her hand flew to her face, touching the wrong side. She moved it over, feeling the wet beneath her fingers and beginning to panic when her reflection continued to rebel against her movements.

"You did it." She suddenly said, and the voice that spoke was not hers – her reflection's mouth moved of its own accord. Jill began to tremble, touching her face again as another stripe of red raced down her cheek. The voice grew louder, more angry.

"You killed that boy."

Jill began to gasp. Her head was killing her, and she felt like she was choking on her fear. Rendered submissive to the pain and the terror, Jill began to sink to her knees, her reflection staring condescendingly down as she did. And as Jill crumpled on the ground, her eyes gushing with blood, her reflection smiled, finally seeing what it had been looking for all along.

Guilt.