Say Her Name (Part 1)
Justin lay flat on his back on his bunk and flipped through the pages of an entertainment magazine in a desultory manner. He was bored. So bored he could almost feel his brain cells switching off. This was the part of touring that he disliked the most; the seemingly endless hours spent as a passenger on this bus. Sometimes he felt more like a prisoner than a passenger. Sometimes, like now, he felt more like a death row inmate.
He pushed himself up from his bunk and tossed the magazine aside carelessly. It hit the edge of the bunk and then fell in a paper heap on the floor. Justin looked at it and shrugged. He’d get it later. There was no hurry. He walked down the middle of the bus following the sound of his friends’ voices. Maybe they would be talking about something interesting. Lord knows he needed a little brain stimulating conversation. Oh hell, who was he kidding? He needed conversation of any kind, stimulating…inane, anything to inject some kind of life into this dull day.
He stopped when he saw his friends in the dining area. JC and Lance were each sitting on opposite sides of one of the booths while Joey and Chris were sitting in the booth across the aisle. Well, Chris was sitting. Joey was perched on the top of the vinyl covered seat, his feet planted comfortably on the eating table’s surface. Justin looked around for a moment and decided to take the empty spot next to Lance. He slid in without acknowledging anyone’s presence and they returned the favor by not acknowledging his. He merely sat, content to listen as he tried to pick up on their thread of conversation.
"Well, the way I remember it is – all the lights have to be off. You can’t even have a candle going. Nothing," Chris was saying.
This statement elicited quick nods from JC and Lance. Joey, apparently, did not agree.
"No, that’s wrong. You’re supposed to use a candle. Otherwise how are you going to see her?" Joey said.
Chris waved his hand in the air dismissively, then continued. "Then you stare into the mirror and you say her name…"
Justin smirked. They were talking about sex again. That’s what they always talked about on tour. He decided to keep listening, maybe he could pick up a few pointers.
"How many times do you say her name?" Lance asked.
"You say it three times. Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary."
Justin’s interest in the conversation peaked. They weren’t talking about sex. Or at least, he didn’t think so.
"Then what does she do?" Lance asked.
"Nothing, she just appears," Chris answered simply.
"Yeah, as a horribly disfigured bloody mess," said JC with a special emphasis on the word bloody.
Justin looked from one of his friends to the other in confusion. "What the hell are you guys talking about?" he asked.
JC, Chris, Lance and Joey all turned to look at him, finally acknowledging his presence for the first time since he had sat down.
Chris spoke up first. "We’re talking about Bloody Mary."
"Who?"
"Bloody Mary. Don’t you know who that is Justin?" JC asked, his tone slightly incredulous.
The corners of Justin’s mouth turned downward into a frown. He hated being the only who did not know something. "No, I don’t JC. Not unless you’re talking about the mixed drink," he said, his voice managing to sound both whiny and snappish at the same time.
His four friends exchanged looks and began to laugh. Justin crossed his arms in mounting anger. If there was one thing he hated more than not knowing what was going on, it was being laughed at. Chris caught Justin’s body language and the unhappy look on his face and slowed his laughter down to a couple of chuckles as he shook his head. "Sorry J, it’s just that we figured everyone had heard of Bloody Mary."
JC, Joey and Lance had also stopped laughing and were now nodding their heads in agreement with Chris.
Justin uncrossed his arms slowly. "Well I haven’t, ok?"
Chris held up his hands in mock surrender. "Ok."
There was silence for a brief moment as everyone adjusted to the new turn in the conversation. Finally Justin cleared his throat hesitantly. "So, who is Bloody Mary?"
The guys all looked at each other as they silently decided on who would be the one to answer Justin’s question. Again, it was Chris who spoke up first.
"Well, Bloody Mary is a cross between an urban legend and a really demented children’s game."
Justin raised his eyebrows. He was intrigued. For the first time today he could feel the boredom slipping away from him.
"The way it works is…you’re supposed to go into a room with a mirror, then you turn off all the lights, and you stare into the mirror and say Bloody Mary three times…"
Justin placed his elbows on the table in front of him and leaned forward. "Then what?"
"Then Bloody Mary appears. It’s like invoking her spirit or something."
Justin blinked heavily. "Cool!"
"Yeah, it is cool, except as we were discussing beforehand, that’s not how the ritual works," said Lance.
Justin turned and faced Lance. "Oh yeah?"
Lance nodded as he began to speak. "See the woman’s name is Mary Worth, not Bloody Mary. And you don’t just chant her name. You have to say ‘I believe in Mary Worth’ three times. Then she appears."
"No, don’t listen to the Mississippi boy," said JC as he waved his hand back and forth in the air. "Her name is Bloody Mary, but you have to chant her name 13 times to summon her, not just 3 times like Chris said."
Joey spoke up. "Guys, I told you. You say Hell Mary. You say it seven times and each time you repeat it you have to say it a little louder. Then, she appears. Sheesh!"
Justin’s head was swimming from the quick conversation and the differing versions of the story. He held up his hand. "Hold up guys. Are you sure you’re all even talking about the same thing? All your stories are so different."
Everyone laughed and Chris said, "Well, I guess there are a lot of variances, but the essential elements are always the same. You. Alone in a dark room. In front of a mirror chanting for a spirit."
Justin rubbed his hand across his forehead as he too laughed. "Ok, so tell me again what happens after you summon this woman."
JC leaned across the table towards Justin. "Well, what I’ve always heard is that Bloody Mary will come through the mirror and try to scratch your face off with her sharp nails."
Justin shuddered at the thought of some vengeful spirit trying to claw his face to ribbons in a darkened room. He then turned to Lance to hear his version of the story.
Lance took his cue. "Well, I heard she attacks you with a knife," he said as he shrugged.
Justin turned toward Joey, eager to see what variance Joey would supply.
"I heard that she tries to pull you into the mirror with her. She tries to take you back to hell with her," he said rather solemnly.
Justin turned his face towards Chris. "And you said she doesn’t do anything at all?"
Chris narrowed his eyes at him as he leaned forward in the booth. "Not directly. She just stands there, but she’s supposed to be completely terrifying." Chris took a deep breath, then continued. "I went to school with a guy whose older brother invoked the spirit of Bloody Mary. He went into the bathroom, turned off all the lights and did the chant. By the time he got out of the bathroom just a couple minutes later his hair had turned completely white and he couldn’t talk for a week."
Joey began to laugh as soon as Chris finished talking. "Oh come on Chris! Someone in your school’s brother? You might as well have said, ‘my third cousin’s girlfriend’s pool cleaner’! What kind of a source is that?"
Chris looked at Joey as anger flashed across his face. "Oh shut up! What do you know about it anyway?"
Justin looked at JC and Lance to gauge their reactions. They weren’t laughing but they were right on the verge of it. He could see that they were trying really hard to hold it in. He allowed himself a smile as he raised his voice and asked, "So, have any of you guys ever tried it?"
Four pairs of eyes suddenly stared at the floor sheepishly. No one spoke.
Justin laughed as he shook his head. "Oh come on guys. You’re telling me that not one of you has ever tried it? Chris, didn’t you say it was a kid’s game? What’s the big deal?" He paused for the right emphasis. "Don’t tell me you guys were too scared," he taunted.
JC was the first to lift his eyes from the apparently fascinating ground. "Come on Justin. Stuff like that is scary when you’re a kid."
"But none of you have been kids for a long time. Haven’t you ever wanted to try it as adults? Just for fun?"
Again, there was silence and again eyes fixated on the floor with an almost obsessive fascination. Finally Lance broke the eerie stillness by clearing his throat. He looked at Justin quickly then he stared down at his hands. "Well Justin…I mean…we know it’s just a story and all, but…what if it were real?"
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Justin turned in his bunk as he flung the covers off of his body in frustration. Not more than a mere minute later he pulled them back up, only to throw them off again three minutes after that. He then sat up in bed and ran his fingers through his curls impatiently. He could not sleep. He had tried. He had been lying in the bunk for over 40 minutes tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable. He had even counted sheep. Nothing was working. He could not sleep.
As he peered into the relative darkness of the bus he thought back to the story that he had heard from his friends earlier. The story of Bloody Mary. Or Mary Worth. Or Hell Mary. Whatever you wanted to call her, it all amounted to the same thing; it was one hell of a fascinating story. He wondered briefly why he had never heard of the legend, then reminded himself that his had been a different childhood. He’d never really hung out with a group of kids that passed the time by telling each other scary stories. His childhood had been one of rehearsals and stages, managers and music teachers. He sighed as he got out the bunk, fully intent on heading towards the kitchen to make himself some kind of late night snack. Instead of the kitchen, however, he found himself heading straight for the bathroom.
He stopped in front of the bathroom door and placed his hand on the knob, not yet turning it, just letting it rest there. Was he really about to do what he thought he was about to do? He shook his head as he turned the doorknob, opened the door and entered. Why the hell not? Truth was, he hadn’t been able to get the story out of his mind all day; it appealed to him on some dark level that he didn’t fully understand but nevertheless enjoyed. After all, it was just a game. A test of courage for kids. And true, he was not a kid anymore, but then again he never had been really. The business had forced him to grow up long before he should have. Here was his chance to be 10 years old again.
He shut the door behind him and walked up to the bathroom mirror, feeling his way carefully. In the middle of the night, without the lights on, the bathroom was so dark that he couldn’t even see two feet in front of him. Suddenly the normal everyday room became an ebony landscape of limitless dimensions. Justin felt as if he could wander this new twilight land for days and never encounter its borders. It was almost a rude shock when his hand connected with the edge of the cool marble sink. He leaned forward and reached out with his hands.
The mirror.
He pressed his fingertips against its flat surface, then he slowly brought his hands down to his sides. His eyes were finally adjusting to the lack of light and he could see the faint outline of the looking glass in front of him.
He cleared his throat softly and crossed his fingers that the guys would not find out about this. They could rag him for years about something like this. Just as he was about to begin the chant, he felt a huge wave of foolishness hit him. He looked down at his crossed fingers and shook his head. What the hell was he doing? He should just turn right back around, eat his sandwich and go to bed like a good boy. Why in the world was he wasting time fooling around with old legends? He uncrossed his fingers.
The part of him that felt foolish and silly was more than ready to head into the kitchen in search of food, but the part of him that still thought this was an adventure kept him where he was. This part of him was stronger, and this was the part of him that caused the words, "Bloody Mary" to come out of his mouth before he even realized his own intentions.
He looked around almost guiltily to see if anyone had heard, but of course no one had. Everyone else was sleeping just as he should be. Still feeling somewhat foolish, he peered into the darkness and whispered "Bloody Mary" again. He had already unconsciously decided that he would use Chris’ version of the legend. After all, it was the simplest, he would only have to repeat the name three times. And this version struck him as the truest for some reason. Perhaps it had to do with something he’d read once that claimed that the number three was a magical number.
He peered into the darkness which was suddenly not quite as black and breathed heavily. He no longer felt silly. He no longer felt like a grown up kid playing a game. The air around him had become thick and stifling and he felt a sudden urge to turn and run and never, ever complete the chant. Not even in his thoughts. No wonder none of the other guys had ever actually done this. Everything about this was unsettling; from the whispers to the inky blackness to the gleaming silver surface in front of him.
He really wanted to leave. He really wanted to just go back to bed and call this a failed experiment and forget that he had ever heard of Bloody Mary in the first place. He really did.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t because one last little part of him, the part that stares at accidents on the highway, the part that reads about serial killers in the papers with voracious curiosity, would not let him leave. This part of him wanted to see. It wanted to know.
Justin was completely unaware that his hands had balled into fists so tight that his knuckles had turned white. He was completely unaware that he was sweating or that his breathing was labored. All that existed for him was the mirror in front of him and the final portion of the chant. Leaning forward ever so slightly he realized that he was going to do this. He was going to finish the chant. In a low whisper that was almost reverent he said, "Bloody Mary."
Suddenly, the air that had been thick and stifling became hot and fetid and the blackness of the room receded almost entirely, making it appear as if the bathroom were lit by a hundred flickering candles. Justin noticed these things only peripherally however. His attention was basically glued to the mirror in front of him and to the thing in the mirror. The visage that confronted him from the confines of the glass stared at him with wide eyes full of hatred. From this vantage point it appeared that the apparition was both in front of him and behind him. Surrounding him. Technically it was a woman, but in reality it was a thing. A horrible thing whose red, gore streaked face showed no indication of humanity.
Justin’s terror-soaked mind shouted at him to ‘get the hell out!’ to just open the door and run, but his limbs would not cooperate. Instead he stood stock-still, almost as if he had been super-glued to the bathroom floor by some demented god who was now watching the scene unfold with abject glee.
Justin watched as the thing seemed to push itself from the mirror. He watched as it extended its arm toward him, and he watched as its thin hand with its unnaturally long nails reached through air so hot that it seemed to sizzle.
And only when it touched him, only when he felt its long dead flesh touch his own, did he finally scream the scream of the damned.