Bloody Marcy - Halloween Flash Fiction

Here's one I carved last year.

This isn't polished, but I really wanted to post something for Halloween.

I'm off to carve some pumpkins. I hope you enjoy this short and that everyone has a terrifyingly delightful Halloween!

Bloody Marcy

"That's soo stupid," I tell them.

"No, it'll be totally funny 'cause Marcy's such a chicken," says Amber.

"Shelby'll do it. She's cool." Hanna smiles at me.

"Yeah, I'm cool." I say, knowing this might be my only shot to get in with the popular crowd.

"Good, here's you're blood." Amber discreetly hands me a small tube of fake blood. She turns and yells, "Who's up for a game of Bloody Mary?" Amber's the most popular girl in Jr. High. She's blonde, gorgeous, and rich. Her parents just built this brand new, three-story house with this huge game room on the top floor.

"Awe, that game's stupid." Marcy glances over to the bathroom.

"You aren't chicken are you?" Amber asks.

"No, I've played it before. It's stupid. I've never seen anything."

"Well, then you won't mind playing it again, will you?" says Hanna.

Marcy looks down and doesn't say anything.

"Who's first?" Amber asks, holding up a flashlight.

"I am," Tiffany says, throwing her long curly brown hair back. "I just don't remember how it goes."

"Okay, here's how you do it." Amber rubs her hands together. I think she's overly excited at the prospect of her practical joke. "Go into the bathroom and close the door. Turn the light off and say, 'Bloody Mary, I killed your baby' thirteen times. Then shine the flashlight into the mirror and you'll see Bloody Mary!"

Tiffany takes the flashlight and heads into the bathroom. Through the crack under the door, we can see the light go out. A minute later, there's a little scream and she jumps out. "I saw her--at least I think I did. It was so fast, I'm not sure."

One by one, each of the girls take a turn; Hanna and Amber both scream at the top of their lungs when it's their turn--they swear they saw her bloody face staring back at them.

Finally, only me and Marcy are left. "I'll go first," I say. Not sure if I'm dreading my turn or Marcy's more.

I go into the bathroom and look at the mirror. It's oval and has a gold-tone frame, like the evil mirror from Snow White or something. A little spooked, I click off the light off. It's really not that dark. There's a big window on the far wall; light from the streetlight streams right in through the blinds.

Under my breathe, I say the stupid chant once and then wait a minute before turning on the flashlight. It reflects off the glass and into my eyes. I'm blinded for a second and can't really see anything.

I open the door, half expecting them to have pulled the gag on me. But the girls look normal, except some of them are giggling--probably because they know it's finally Marcy's turn.

"Well?" Amber asks.

I blink my eyes a couple of times trying to make the spots disappear. "Umm, I might have saw her,"

Amber and Hanna have already moved on. "Your turn Marcy," they crow in unison.

"All right, this is dumb though." Marcy grabs the flashlight out of my hand and storms into the bathroom.

All the girls get out their tubes of fake blood. Amber motions to everyone to wait. "Marcy, I can see the light on."

A second later, the bathroom light clicks off and all the girls start smearing fake blood on their faces. I can't believe how ridiculous they all look. It looks more like fruit punch than blood.

Hanna nudges me and looks down at the tube, still unopened in my hand. I flash her a fake smile and start dabbing it on my face.

A second later, I see the beam of the flashlight peeking out of the crack under the door. All the girls are trying not to laugh and the bathroom door slowly starts to open.

By the time Marcy's opens the door, Amber's turned off the lights in the room.

All we can see of Marcy is her flashlight, shinning in our faces. Everyone starts busting up laughing, then there's a loud, continuous scream and everyone stops.

I see the beam of the flashlight moving backwards, like the headlights of a car, except speeding away. There's a loud crash of breaking glass. The flashlight drops, disappearing through the window. The screaming stops.

In the window, the blinds are ripped away. The streetlight pours into the bathroom. Shards of glass covered in oozing blood are all that remains in the window.