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LarrySun:
THE JOURNEY TO A THOUSAND FLASH

Flash 21: Bloody Mary

Be careful what you wish for.

Let me clear the air and speak bluntly. My name is Mary. I have been dead for hundreds of years. In other words, I am a ghost. I am not the only Mary who has died, of course. Many have gone before me who were also named Mary, of course. Surely, you must have known about one or two Marys from history.

I didn't die a natural death - if I did, I wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be hearing from me. I died gruesomely. The man I fell in love with had slaughtered me like an animal. He had left my corpse bloody and mangled on our wedding night. Then he eloped with another girl. The villagers had come across my blood-soaked body and had buried me pitifully. My white wedding dress had turned crimson. I was baptised in my own blood by the man I considered the love of my life. Hence the name, Bloody Mary.

I am not the regular Bloody Mary you must have read about from ancient folktales. Oh no, I didn't die of flu like the first Bloody Mary. She is a kind ghost. She forgives a lot of stupid things you all do, but not me. I have learnt one thing - the heart of every man is full of wickedness, and they deserve nothing but cruelty in return.

You must have heard about the legend of Bloody Mary. Indeed, everyone knows about the ritual to invoke the spirit of Mary. A lot of people people do it for fun, while some others are serious about it.

For a woman searching for love, you have to light thirteen candles round a mirror, then climb the staircase backward until your back is at the mirror. This must be done in the midnight - _our_ midnight. After calling 'Bloody Mary' thirteen times, you will catch the glimpse of the person you're meant to marry. It works, except in the case of some unlucky ones who would see skeletons instead - or even worse, me.

I rarely hunt women. I manifest myself before them on very rare occasions. My business is against the sons of men, the foolish ones who described themselves as daredevils, the ones who did it just to prove the myth wrong, even after learning about various others who had mysteriously died in front of their mirrors. They say not all men are the same, but for hundreds of years, I have not found a different man - they are all the same as far as I'm concerned. When they meet with the most beautiful women, their rationality escapes them - they tend to think with their groins rather than their heads, and when the crotch does the thinking, the head rolls.

My latest encounter was just yesterday. His name was Tony. This young man had lit thirteen candles round his standing mirror. Then he had summoned the name 'Bloody Mary' thirteen times. He must have done an extensive research because he got the time right. No one had ever got the time right since some decades; that's because our time here is slightly different from yours.

Anyways, Tony invoked my name. I gladly obliged him, just like I had others. When he saw me in the mirror, he shrank back in fear, at first.

"Hello Tony," I said, my voice was the softest, the most sonorous.

"How-how did you know my name?" he asked in shock.

"Will you be my groom?" I asked him, like I'd asked countless others over centuries.

"Your groom?" He seemed confused.

I am still drenched in blood even as a ghost, even after hundreds of years. My wedding gown is still wet with my blood, but Tony wasn't seeing that yet. They don't see it until it's too late. What they see is a beautiful young girl in a white flowing wedding gown. They see a girl that's irresistible.

"I want to be your bride," I told Tony. "Will you marry me?"

He shut his eyes. "No, you're not real. This isn't real! It's impossible."

"Open your eyes, Tony. I am real. You called on me. I will do whatever you say. I belong to you, Tony. Please come to me. Oh Tony! I feel so cold. Hold me tight, Tony."

He started walking towards me slowly. He couldn't resist me. Not my words. Not my body. I have the body he had always dreamed of ravaging. I represented his darkest, filthiest, naughtiest desires. He held me in his arms. He grabbed my body hungrily. He touched me. He was rough. He was impatient. I could feel his urges as he groped me all over. He couldn't stop himself.

"Oh you're so beautiful! You're real! Your skin is so smooth, so soft. You're an angel."

"Kiss me, Tony," I breathed.

He brought his mouth to mine. I opened wider and allowed his tongue explore my mouth - my rotten mouth. Maggots welcomed his tongue. I pushed his head closer to mine and kissed him back, allowing as many maggots as possible into his mouth.

Now he could see me in my true colour. Blood dripped from my hair to his face, baptising him. He was struggling to free himself but he was no match against the strength of a ghost of centuries.

I held him like a rag doll and laughed hysterically, maniacally, as I tore his flesh. He was screaming now, but that was not going to save him. My hands ripped past his skin into his belly and came out with his entrails. His guts spilled to the floor. There was blood everywhere, it gushed from his stomach to the ceiling and down to his entire body. Tony was one of my bloodiest victims.

Finally, I tore him from his torso. Then the mirror broke.

I disappeared.

My job had been done. Another man has been added to my legion - Bloody Tony is the latest recruit. Now I'm in search of the next victim.

Will you do me a favour and invoke my name? I'll be waiting for you to prove me wrong.


©Larry Sun, September 2020