Mary's Eyes

Do you ever wonder if the supernatural is real? If there's really something in your closet? Or under your bed? What if those shapes in the mirror aren't just shapes, but something darker? What if the sounds of the house settling are actually spirits passing through walls? What if those shivers you get in the dark are from hollow, watching eyes?

Tiptoeing slowly down the dark hall, Mary licked her lips. She could see the glow from the girl's room just around the corner. Her heart began to speed up, adrenaline flooding her system. She always got this feeling, and she loved it. It reminded her of the thrill of life.

The girl was humming, brushing her long, hazelnut hair in front of her elegant mirror. Her lean frame cast a gentle shadow on the lavender wall, the edges soft like the tune on her breath. A part of Mary caved, the music almost sedating her. She shook her head, the feeling fleeing like mice.

Mary wrapped her bony fingers around the door frame, tapping them gently. She'd waited for months for this. Mary had perfected her methods. Months spent planting terror and parinoa in the victim's mind, only to cease as soon as a breaking point is seen. Then, like a predator, she would pounce on her prey.

The girl frowned, her eyes drifting to the corner where Mary's shadow was casting. She turned quickly, but Mary was faster. She'd darted back out into the dark hallway. This was her refuge. Her safe place. Her place of scheming.

The girl blinked, silently convincing herself she was seeing things. She set the brush down and began to undress her bed. Although she thought she was calm, her heartbeat was like a drum to the being in the darkness. The girl sat and pulled her feet up onto her bed, turning off the light. She covered her head with her quilt, like a small child convinced that a comforter would keep out the nightmares.

Mary grinned, her sharp teeth fitting together like a perfect puzzle. She crouched, using her strong arms to pull herself forward slowly. Like a lioness hunting a gazelle, she crept farther into the room, inch by inch. The girl rolled over and sighed, the light from the moon making her pale skin glow.

Mary stood in front of the mirror like the girl had so soon before. Her reflection looked back at her with sad eyes. Long ginger hair flowed down a face as pale as milk. A beautiful dress covered in embroidery and lace clothed the body that was full of life and love. A hand reached out and pressed against the mirror, her mouth forming soundless words.

Mary didn't need to hear those words. She knew what they were. It seemed only yesterday she'd been the one saying those words. She looked down at her frail, skeletal body that held more rage and evil than anything else on the earth. Often when she sat in the dark she thought about who she used to be. Something different. Someone different.

She used to be somebody.

Mary snapped out of her thoughts when the girl stirred again, turning back to face the wall.

Mary eyed her cautiously. This had to work. She wasn't willing to wait any longer. Mary turned to the bed, her mind buzzing with excitement. She reached out her hands and grasped the girl's neck firmly. Their eyes met, a pair will with fear and the other unexplainable rage.

The girl tried to scream, but Mary's hands kept any sound from taking flight. The girl's limbs flailed around, seeking purchase on her attacker. Mary pulled her from her bed and held her in front of the mirror. Pulling the girl's hair to one side, Mary buried her teeth in the girl's neck, drawing blood.

In a swift movement, Mary painted a figure onto the mirror. Suddenly, two pale hands reached through the symbol, grabbing at the girl. She writhed and squirmed, trying to get away from her attackers. In one strong yank, the girl was pulled through the mirror.

Mary pushed her hands through the bloody figure, reaching for the hands. She felt slender fingers wrap around her wrist and she pulled, praying for the first time in forever. The girl from the reflection fell out on top of Mary, breathing raggedly. The mirror cracked, the blood soaking through the cracks.

Minutes passed, accompanied by the sound of breathing. Finally, the girl stood. She smoothed her dress and pushed her hair out of her face. Mary stood after her and held out her hand. Silently the girl took her hand and pulled her into a hug, closing her eyes. In a bright flash, Mary sunk into the newcomer, her body melting like wax.

The girl breathed deeply and opened her eyes. Hateful eyes. Mary's eyes.