The Afterlife Bar and Grille - Bloody Mary
5134? Now calling #5134! Could someone check the mirrors in the… Oh, never mind. I see her. Mary…
{gasps}
Oh, no! Sorry folks! Not that Mary. Not their Mary.
{relieved sighs}
Isn’t that just my luck? I am one of the most famous legends ever and now, because of some inconsequential woman’s untimely demise, no one remembers me!
Of course, I suppose that’s been happening all my life (and afterlife). When I was among the living, I met a man - Trevor. He was a doctor. And, we were very much in love. But, unfortunately, I met him too late. He was already spoken for - married.
But, if you have ever been in love… well, love does not always hold itself to conventional ways of thinking. Regrettably, Trevor would not be convinced of this. His solution was to stay married to his wife and see me on the sly. Well, I thought, two can play at that little game - and I threatened to tell his wife of our… arrangement.
But, apparently two could not play that game… did I mention Trevor was a surgeon?
He was very cross at the idea that I could ‘ruin his life’ - which, of course, was not my intention. I was merely trying to find a means to an end, to find a way to keep us together.
After my little warning, Trevor flew into a rage. Apparently, my cries of ‘Trevor, don’t you see…’ were just added kindling. He scooped up his medical bag and withdrew a scalpel before I even had time to shed a tear.
I remember blinding pain - no pun intended.
I heard him say, over and over again, “Bloody hell, Mary! You don’t understand! Bloody hell. Bloody hell, Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.”
I tried, once I was alone, to write his name - trying to forget that I was using my own blood as ink. Trying to forget that it felt as if it were my heart, not just my eyes, which had been cut out so cruelly!
When I opened my eyes - surprised that they worked - I found myself looking down at a man. I didn’t recognize him, but I recognized something else. I recognized his guilt.
He was reaching around me, though I don’t know what he was doing. Then, he looked at me. He tilted his head, did some adjusting, and said something about the mirror being straight.
I stared at him with disgust - the guilt of murdering his poor, old mother radiated from him. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did - he smothered her in her sleep with her favorite silk pillow so that he could collect his inheritance and pay off his debts.
As I read the story of his sins on his face, his body, his mind, he shuttered. He looked up at me again and I saw that his eyes were dripping with tears of blood. Shortly thereafter, he was dead and lying unceremoniously on the floor.
Well, it didn’t bring dear Ida Crenner back to life, but it made me feel just a little better.
I found myself again and again, opening my eyes, looking at strangers, and knowing their shameful secrets. And each time, I performed my good deed for all the victims of their crimes.
There were times when the first person to stand before me was guiltless - but that couldn’t stop me. I could always find a contemptible soul nearby.
Such was the time when a familiar face appeared before me. The young woman, I believe her name was Donna, was not unknown to me. I had seen her before. The first time had been just after a triumph over a horrid man whose shame consumed him - he had not been able to predict or prevent the suicide of his wife. I had just turned to leave when this girl walked in to find her father.
I, of course, thought nothing of it at the time but now my curiosity was roused. There seemed to be no reason for me to teach this girl a lesson. Then, I felt it. Shame and blame flooding to me from the blonde standing beside Donna. She tried to run, but I followed.
She hid herself away from me. I could feel her close by, but could not locate her.
Then, I was called before a young man. Guilt as strong as the blond girl’s hit me like a tidal wave. Guilt from dreaming of his girlfriend’s fiery death - of finding her belatedly… wait… I know this story!
This victory would be beyond compare! I stared into the Winchester’s eyes and impelled all of his sorrow and suffering at him. I had him. He was mine!
But, the lesson to be learned is that hunters rarely travel alone. As I was all but tasting the young man’s demise, another man - another hunter, another Winchester - broke the connection and my mirror in one abominable blow.
Now, I could have simply crawled into another mirror… but that’s not the point. He broke my mirror! I surged with the power of my anger, righteousness, and new-found freedom. That’s right - freedom. I climbed out of my shattered mirror, determined to finish what I started.
I saw the guilt bleed from their eyes as I approached them. Perhaps that is why I didn’t notice when the second Winchester grabbed a mirror of his own and held it up as a shield. I nearly laughed at the very idea… but then I saw my reflection. And it turned on me!
My own reflection had the nerve to take my good deeds and turn them into something foul; calling the justice I doled out assassination. I wept for the betrayal. After everything I have done for the innocent lives that were taken…