Bloody Mary (Urban Legends Series Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Bloody Mary

  Prologue

  Kat

  2009

  I swirl my drink carefully, trying to get the vodka to magically blend with the viscous, overly concentrated orange juice. I take a sip and gag at the potent spirit sitting stubbornly on top. Note to self to pour vodka first next time if I’m still too lazy to get a spoon to stir it properly.

  Juniper laughs at my gagging from the opposite end of the couch, where she throws back her screwdriver like she’s been pounding them for 20 years. She’s a year younger than I am, but had taken to the acrid taste of alcohol like a fish to water.

  “You look like you’re going to throw up every time you drink that,” she teases me, finding absolute delight in the faces I’m making. I can’t blame her, because I’m sure I’ve never looked uglier in my life than while I’m choking this down.

  Before I can respond cleverly, Erik appears before me and goes down on one knee chivalrously to hand me both a spoon for my drink and a joint. What a prince, I think as I incline my head coquettishly and accept both gifts while balancing the drink between my knees. I lean clumsily over to kiss his lips in appreciation when I realize my blouse has dipped slovenly into it.

  “Shit,” I cuss, leaning back to assess the damage, thanking the heavens that I hadn’t decided to don the white blouse I’d originally eyed for the evening.

  “You could take the shirt off,” Erik says, raising an eyebrow, with a smile playing at those sensuous lips. “Get the spot out.”

  “Blech,” Juniper exclaims as I waggle my eyebrows as best as I can while I take a drag off the joint.

  I let the smoke linger in my lungs as I hand the joint back and slump back into the couch. “This couch is trying to eat me, I swear,” I say as I exhale.

  “I think my brother is trying to eat you,” Juniper laughs, and I turn my head to see Erik attentively sitting closely at my side, stroking my hair. I look at him fondly. What a fox. Thick, wavy blonde-kissed hair, expressive eyebrows, piercing blue eyes and those lips. My god, those lips. My stomach leaps when I remember that tonight is the night we'd decided to finally seal the deal.

  I become acutely aware of how his fingertips feel as they softly trace down my face and shoulder and the pot is making it feel like it’s the height of eroticism. Afraid my lust is visible to Juniper, I force myself to sit up and reach for my purse, and manage to stay upright after I’ve clutched it.

  “Mario gave me something special for tonight,” I say as I search for the little baggy swimming in with lip glosses, receipts and crumbs. Victoriously I pull it out and shake it at them, cringing apologetically when unidentified food stuff flies off onto the floor.

  “Do we really need that too?” Erik asks, his voice tinged with a bit of disappointment.

  “I thought it would be fun,” I shrug, feeling stung. “We don’t have to, but how often are your parents gone all night?”

  “Count me in,” Juniper yells too loudly and then laughs at herself.

  I try to scrutinize his expression, but feel too cloudy to make sense of it. He just shrugs and lays back on the couch again, face impassive once again.

  Maybe I should be sober for our first time, MY first time, but the allure of heightening the experience, alone in this house is tempting. Plus, it’s not as though I hadn’t done everything else with him besides the final act. With Juniper eager, I realize it’ll be hard to talk her out of it now. She’s an experimental girl and is even more excited to have her parents away. They are quite strict and she is hungry for new experiences, and I feel a twinge of guilt for being in their house and encouraging this behavior.

  “We can’t all take this and then leave her alone to go have sex,” Erik whispers in my ear, and the hairs on the back of my neck raise pleasurably at his hot breath.

  “Kayla is here,” I argue in hushed tones. “Juniper will be fine.”

  “Care to share your thoughts with the rest of the class?” Juniper laughs from her perch.

  Ignoring her, I whisper back to Erik, “Let’s do this, hang out and enjoy it all together for a bit and then you and I can head to your room.” I give my best impression of a flirtatious smile, hoping to sway him, but he still looks hesitant.

  “I can hearrrrr you,” Juniper sings. “Come on, Erik. Let’s have some fun and THEN you can go deflower my best friend.”

  Erik turns beet red and then throws his hands up in exasperation before grabbing the bag and popping the pink, little pill. “Sometimes I hate that you two are friends.”

  I know my face registers shock at him taking the pill so suddenly and I nod and pop the pill as well and call Kayla in. I toss the bag at Juniper, who doesn’t hesitate at all before swallowing hers.

  Kayla saunters through the 18th century, grandiose archway to where we are installed on the plush living room couches. She is puffing on her own pipe and swirling her drink as she sits next to me on the couch.

  Kayla is the possessor of a sphinx-like beauty. She’s cool, confident and enigmatic, and always has been. She walked the halls of elementary school like a queen, and she hadn’t slowed her roll now in high school either. She managed to rise above all the minutiae and pettiness of high school effortlessly, with her college boyfriend and sage eyes.

  I’d always had a girl-crush on her, and would bet that most everyone else felt the same way. I gleaned a good amount of self confidence from the fact that she chose to spend time with me. She wasn’t a solid part of our clique, per se, but was there enough for us all to feel a bit cooler.

  “What are we up to, my merry band of bad behaving buddies?” Kayla asks, staring at us through thickly lashed, cocoa eyes.

  I raise the baggy and shake it in lieu of an answer and laugh as she immediately takes the last pill without a question. “Ecstasy! Craig and I took this a few months ago, He braided my hair for about three hours while we discussed evolution, The Bermuda Triangle and Proust. Good times,” She says as she raises her glass of what appears to be straight whiskey. I shake my head in awe as she sips it without even the hint of a wince.

  “How long does this take to kick in?” Juniper asks.

  “It took me about a half an hour, but Craig didn’t feel it for an hour,” Kayla tells her as she looks around with interest. “This house is wonderfully creepy.”

  “It truly is,” Erik says. “It was built in 1672 and has been in the family ever since.”

  “Is it haunted?” I ask, wondering why I’d never thought to ask before.

  “No—“ Erik says at the exact time that Juniper emphatically shouts yes.

  “It is!” Juniper says, pointing at her brother incredulously.

  “Not one thing has ever happened to me here before,” he tells her with a shrug.

  “Well, plenty has happened to me,” Juniper counters as Erik rolls his eyes.

  “Is this the imaginary friend thing?” he asks with a disbelieving groan.

  “She wasn’t imaginary,” Juniper says, leaning her head back and st
aring blankly at the ceiling. “I don’t remember a lot from back then, because I was tiny—but I do remember her.”

  “Was it a little girl?” I ask, intrigued and confused as to how I’d never heard about this before. It’s a night of firsts.

  “No,” Juniper answers with wide eyes. “A fully grown woman. I can remember her before I can remember almost anything else. She was absolutely beautiful with this long, long black hair and these soulful, dark eyes.”

  “Do you still see her?” Kayla asks evenly, sitting forward, balancing her forearms on her smooth knees.

  “No, no,” Juniper stares at us knowingly. “I know it all sounds crazy, but I haven’t seen her since I was about eight. She’d always been so nice, she felt like a friend. When my parents and Erik ignored me she’d be there and talk with me endlessly. She always left when I went to sleep, but one night she stayed. She started to scare me.”

  “How? What did she do?” I ask greedily, chills running up my spine as I observe Juniper’s face in the flickering light of the fireplace.

  “I don’t remember what she said exactly but she started getting very insistent with me, she would tell me to do things. And before you ask—I don’t recall what—and It wasn’t so much what she was asking, but how. She was angry and insistent and started to stay night after night, even when I became frightened and asked her to leave,” she shakes almost imperceptibly, as though the anxiety is still tightly coiled in her subconscious and is striking again, just at the mention of this. “I told her I’d go tell my parents and she told me I’d better not. That I couldn’t tell anyone. She didn’t say what she’d do if I did, but it was clear it would be bad.”

  “Holy shit,” I mutter inelegantly.

  “Well, I told them. They dismissed it as my imagination and that night I had put on my nightlight and finally fell asleep while she stared at me silently from the edge of my bed. I was woken as she pulled me onto the floor, scratching at me and pinching me and she looked so different. Not beautiful any longer, but almost like a creature with burning, angry eyes and she was making this frightening hiss while she did it—whispering harsh things I couldn’t really understand. I started crying and then it turned to screaming until my parents ran in and turned on the light and, of course, she was gone. My body was covered in scratches and my parents were confounded.

  Remember, Erik?” She looks at him expectantly.

  He nods slowly and then snorts, “Our parents were concerned and took her to a spiritual advisor through the church rather than a shrink. Such bunk.”

  “It mustn’t have been, because that was the last time I saw her,” she retorts pointedly.

  “Did she have a name?” Kayla asks, crossing her slender, mocha legs in the opposite direction to face Juniper.

  “I don’t remember,” Juniper answers, her eyes a bit haunted.

  “We have a little time until this kicks in,” Kayla says, breaking the silence that had settled upon us, as she leans over and pulls a Ouija Board out of her hobo bag. “Want to use this?”

  “Oh, good lord,” Erik groans, probably thinking he was seeing his chances of getting laid go right down the drain.

  “Why not?” Juniper shrugs. “We are already in spooky mode anyhow.”

  Five minutes later we’d lit candles and were all arranged on the floor around the coffee table with the Ouija Board sitting patiently for us in the middle. Somehow arcane and also new looking, with its oddly shaped communication apparatus and a plastic window squarely in the middle. Somehow I’d gone to countless slumber parties and not seen one in person until this moment.

  “I love how you just have a Ouija Board in your bag,” I tell Kayla.

  “Have spirit board, will travel,” she says by way of explanation. “Everyone rest your hands upon the planchette lightly and clear your mind.”

  I nervously place my hands on the creamy plastic and feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise. As we sit like this for many minutes, I notice my skin prickling, and feel a sheen of sweat around my hairline. I look nervously around and see everyone with their eyes closed and I glance at the candle and see the light begin to intensify, and I swear I can hear it flicker.

  I am reassured when I realize it’s the ecstasy beginning to work and begin to relax, enjoying the warmth, scents and lights. I was happily obsessing over the sound of my own breathing and It felt like ages before Kayla spoke again, her velvety voice breaking the reveried state of my mind.

  “Spirits, welcome,” she begins. “Is anyone here?”

  Nothing happens for a minute and then we jump slightly as the planchette begins to glide smoothly around the board. Startled, I look up at everyone’s faces with their darting, frightened eyes. The window of the planchette lands firmly on YES.

  Kayla looks at us and nods reassuringly, as she must have forecast a mutiny from Ouija for the night. “What do you want?” she asks the board.

  My eyes widen as I feel my hands be led quickly around and the sound of it gliding is inherently eerie and so amplified by that little pink pill. It quickly spells out Erik.

  Erik promptly takes his hands off and stares at all of us in turn. “You guys are fucking with me.”

  We shake our heads, but no one puts their hands back on the board. Juniper looks specifically perturbed, her eyes darting around. Kayla seems to sense this as well and she quickly boxes it up and stows it back in her purse. “Maybe too spooky while on drugs,” she concedes.

  I nod. “I’m feeling it,” I hadn’t even realized it, but I was stroking my own arm, enjoying both the feeling and the motion. Everything was coming over me in waves, and I sighed and laid back on the couch. I looked at the ceiling which felt alive, but it was beautiful and somehow not alarming. The fan was hypnotic, like each leaf of it was pushing quenching, cool air onto my warmed face in prismatic slow motion.

  “Me too,” Juniper says. “I feel like there are 50 fingers caressing me.”

  “You know they say that the Bloody Mary legend started here in town,” I say absentmindedly, barely recognizing the cadence of my own voice. It sounds magical.

  “That thing where you go into a dark bathroom and say her name and she appears.”

  “I think that’s one of those legends that everyone thinks came from their hometown,” Erik points out, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “I know, but really in this case,” I smile. “Like really really.”

  “What happens when she appears?” Juniper asks, eyes wide, highlighting her angelic features.

  “Nothing good,” Kayla answers as she absentmindedly strokes my hair. “Your hair is so soft and smells like cinnamon rolls.”

  “Thank you!” I cry. “You’re so beautiful.” It all seems so natural as we sit here, giggling compliments to one another.

  “Let’s do it,” Juniper suddenly says, her body straightening rapidly.

  “I’m trying to,” Erik groans from her other side. “But I’m starting to be afraid that Kayla will get to her first.”

  We all laugh, except Juniper. She stares straight ahead, strangely humorlessly. “Let’s do the Bloody Mary thing.”

  “I don’t even want to move,” I tell her, quite sincerely. I just want to sit here and touch Erik and enjoy the candlelight.

  “I want to do it,” she says firmly, eyes not focusing, but mouth set stubbornly.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Kayla says, staring at Juniper with motherly concern. “Are you having a bad trip?”

  Juniper shakes her head. “No, I just want to do it.”

  Erik looks over at her, worry furrowing his brow. “Are you ok, Juni? You’re acting strangely. Do you need to go to bed?”

  “No!” she roars, making us all jump and look uneasily at one another.

  “Fine,” I finally say, not enjoying the concept, but also feeling a bit anxious to have her satisfied so we can move on with our night. I stare at her expectantly as she slowly nods, her eyes looking dark, despite their light blue hue. “Kayla?”

&
nbsp; “No,” Kayla says cautiously, watching Juniper keenly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “You can leave then,” Juniper says plainly as she still stares straight ahead, as if Juniper had signed off for the night, and here was some strange and surly wench in her stead. Her eyes and demeanor are scaring me and feel I may have made a mistake agreeing.

  “Hey, you’re freaking out, Juniper,” Kayla tells her firmly, ignoring the rude statement. “You’re having a bad trip but it’ll back off, I promise. Let’s get you some water, turn on the lights and change the subject.”

  Juniper ignores her and stands up. “Come on, Kat.” She motions towards me and I stumbled up, not wanting to anger her further. It takes me a minute to register standing on my feet and I start giggling. I looked at Juniper, whose face is still all business.

  “Let’s do it in the upstairs bathroom,” Juniper says, striding quickly.

  “Your parents will hate me if they find out I mentioned this ‘devil game’ and did it with you,” I say, willing my feet to catch up with her. They feel like they aren’t working and I’m having tunnel vision, but somehow it isn’t unpleasant.

  “I’m not telling them,” she says as she ascends the stairs easily. I am shocked at how able she is to tackle them if she is feeling half of what I am.

  As we reach the blackened bathroom, she pauses to light a candle which she cups carefully as she enters.

  The bathroom is surprisingly large for a colonial original. It’s large enough for the two of us to stand comfortably between the clawfoot tub and the ornate oval mirror that hangs regally at the back of the freestanding sink.

  I start to feel goosebumps prickling on my exposed flesh and realize that the feeling would not be welcome if I were sober, and in the back of my mind I wonder why I’m doing this. I’m not overly superstitious, and fairly neutral when thinking about the supernatural, but the sheer amount of times I’ve listened to stories about this lends to a feeling of dread, even through the drug-induced fog clouding me.

  “I’m just going to do it,” I say as Juniper closes the door and squelches all light but the warm glow from the three-wick gingerbread scented candle she’s holding. I know that if I don’t rip off the proverbial band aid, I won’t do it. I want as little time to think about it as possible.