Winchester and Cain Chapter 05 – Bloody Mary
Valkyrie's P.O.V
Dean sighed happily when the car eventually rolled to a stop in the car park of the hospital in Toledo, Ohio, we were both awake whilst Sam was shifting in his sleep. "Sam?" I called softly, leaning forward and shaking his shoulder lightly, but I didn't get any response from the youngest Winchester.
"Sam, wake up!" Dean shouted loudly, Sam jerked awake and looked around dazedly, he sat up and rubbed his eyes.
"I take it I was having a nightmare." Sam sighed and Dean and I nodded.
"Yeah, another one." I told him, giving him a concerned glance.
"Well, hey, at least I got some sleep," Sam shrugged and then glanced at me, "Unlike some." He accused and I shrugged once. It was true: I hadn't been able to get the moment Darquesse broke free from the dark corners of my mind to fight against the demon out of my head, every time I closed my eyes it was there, lying in wait and ready to play the scene in my head.
"I had... things on my mind." I dismissed the accusation back-handedley.
"What kind of things? The fact that your 'dabbling' is in with Necromancy?" Dean scoffed, holding up a hand to show quotation marks.
"I was going to tell you." I mumbled, twisting the comfortingly cold black ring on my finger.
"Yeah, of course you were. That's why when we asked you what else you did you said nothing." Dean snapped at me coldly, and I shrunk in my seat, suddenly missing Skulduggery and my home dearly.
"Stop it Dean, Steph probably didn't tell us because she was scared you were going to react like this." Sam defended me, and Dean glared daggers at his brother, but Sam held his gaze. "And besides," He continued, "We wouldn't have even known about the necromancy unless the demon possessing her hadn't used it." Sam reasoned, Dean gazed at his brother for the longest time before he softened and looked back at me.
"He's right, I'm sorry, Steph. It wasn't you who used the magic against us, I shouldn't be punishing you for something you didn't do." Dean reluctantly apologised, and I shrugged simply.
"It's ok, I probably would have reacted the same way." I smiled, and then Dean sighed in relief.
"Phew! Chick-flick moment over." He breathed happily and I raised an eyebrow.
"You're so weird." I announced in an amused tone.
"Right, now that's over and done with. We need to get to the reason we travelled all the way here in the first place." Sam moved the topic on and started rifling through his backpack, "Where is here?" He asked when he bought out a folded newspaper.
"Toledo, Ohio." I told him proudly, and Sam shot me an odd look.
"What? I'm trying to learn how to say it properly so I don't look a fool when we're questioning people." I explained with wide eyes.
"You don't need to pronounce something wrong to scare people, Steph, that's what your face is for." Dean joked and I glared daggers at him, opening my mouth to retaliate with a sharp retort, but Sam cut us off.
"Guys, guys. Can we get back to why we came here in the first place?" Sam held up the newspaper, Dean and I shared a dark look before nodding reluctantly. "The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father, Steven Shoemaker." Sam read out a section of an article on the front page of the paper.
"Sudden death, huh? What do you think really happened to this guy?" I asked the two boys.
"That's what we're gonna find out." Dean answered as he pulled his keys from the ignition and put them safely in his pocket, I checked I had the correct fake IDs at hand and followed him out the car.
After we had flashed our IDs to the nurse at the reception, we were directed to the room 114 marked Morgue , inside there were two desks on the opposite sides of the room, a man was sat at the one at the far room. "Hey." The man greeted us, looking up from the crossword he was trying to complete.
"Hey." Dean greeted.
"Can I help you?" The man greeted, sighing as he set down his pen and moving the crossword out of the way on the desk and looking at the three of us.
"Yeah. We're the uh... med students." I answered, and the man frowned.
"Sorry?" He asked, directing his beady eyes onto me.
"Oh, Doctor-," I stumbled over the name and glanced at the photos on the wall of the morgue technician for inspiration, "Figlavitch didn't tell you?" I asked, making my eyes wide and innocent, feigning the look of a worried student. "We talked to him on the phone. He, uh... we're from Ohio State." I explained quickly, the man nodded slowly, "He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse, it's for our paper." I nodded, trying to be convincing.
"Well, honey, I'm sorry. He's at lunch." The man shrugged with disinterest.
"Oh well he said, uh-."
"Oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?" Dean took over, sensing my strained efforts to try and persuade him.
"Sorry," The man shook his head, "I can't. Doc will be back in hour, you can wait for him if you want." He offered.
"An hour? Oooh..." Dean made a face and glanced at us uneasily, "We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then."
"Yeah." Sam nodded.
"Uh, look, man, this paper's like, half our grade. So if you don't mind helping us out-." Dean gave his sideways grin, but it dropped when he was cut off.
"Uh, look, man... no." The man mocked, scoffing and looking back down at his crossword again Dean narrows his eyes and forced a chuckle, then he stepped over to the man and I had to pull at his neck collar to drag him back.
"I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear." Dean mumbled through gritted teeth and I hit him on the arm and gave him a look, meanwhile Sam stepped in front of us so the man wouldn't see and pulled out his wallet. He placed two bills on the man's desk and he greedily snatched up the money and stared at it for a moment before switching his gaze to the three of us.
"Follow me." He smiled and walked away, Sam and I turned to follow but Dean angrily grabbed his brother's arm and swung him around.
"Dude, I earned that money." Dean complained and Sam frowned.
"You won it in a poker game." I scoffed, beside him and he turned to me and nodded.
"Yeah." He looked at me like he'd lost his life savings, I rolled my eyes and walked through the door where the man went, the brothers close behind.
"Now, the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding." Sam asked once we had all gathered around a body covered with a grey sheet on a metal table, the man didn't respond and pulled back the sheet, revealing a middle aged man with blacked out eye sockets and faint black veins under his eyes, reminding me of the remnant occupying Tanith.
"More than that. They practically liquefied." The man grimaced and pointed to the blackened hollow eye sockets.
"Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?" I asked, but the man shook his head.
"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone." The man answered.
"What's the official cause of death?" Sam asked.
"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure." The man's hand wavered over the corpse's brain.
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen." The man smirked, as if he was impressed by how Mr Shoemaker died.
"The eyes and mash; what would cause something like that?" Sam questioned, the man shrugged.
"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims." He answered.
"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?" Dean asked from behind us, pointing to the lack of eyeballs that the corpse had.
"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor." The man scoffed.
"Hey, think we could take a look at that police report?" Dean asked.
"You know, for, uh... our paper." I added, smiling.
"I'm not really supposed to show you that." The man hedged, hunching his shoulders and sucking the air in through his teeth. Sam sighed and pulled out his wallet, I glared at the man the whole while he watched the wallet, I knew he was aware I was glaring at him but he didn't meet my eyes as his podgy hand reached forward to take the cash Sam held out.
"You know," Sam said as we were walking down the steps of the hospital, the police report in his hands, "It might not be one of ours, might just be some freak medical thing." He said optimistically.
"How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?" Dean asked his brother with a sarcastic shake of his head.
"Uh, almost never." The younger brother responded.
"Exactly." He nodded, I saw Sam glare at his brother and I decided to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"Alright, let's go talk to the daughter." I told them and they both hesitated and nodded.
We were surprised to arrive at the Shoemaker household and find the front door was wide open, we walked in smirking and then stopped short: there was a photo of Steven Shoemaker on a grand oak table with candles and flowers splayed on it, in an adjourning room there was a large group of mourners dressed in black. I looked down at myself and self-consciously shrugged my coat off so I was stood there in my tight black tunic and black jeans. At least I wasn't wearing a chequered shirt and old jeans, I cast a look at the boys and pulled an awkward face. "Does anyone else feel under dressed?" I muttered out the corner of my mouth as I smiled at a person passing by. Dean sighed and shoved me forward, directing me through the house, at the end of the building there was a back door leading to a garden. There were younger people dressed in funeral attire – at least they wouldn't silently judge us so obviously.
"Excuse me," Sam tapped a boy who looked to be around my age and he turned looking slightly tipsy holding a glass of champagne, "Do you know where, errr, Donna and Lilly Shoemaker are?" He asked, the boy nodded dully and pointed a wavering hand towards four girls sat a little way away from the crowd. "Thanks." Sam smiled and we went to move away but the boy grabbed my arm and I tensed and turned back to him.
"Hey, uh, my name is-."
"Touch me again and I'll remove those hands from those pathetic wrists." I narrowed my eyes at him and stalked away over to the girls, Sam and Dean hurried to catch up to me.
"Ouch, Steph." Dean smirked and I shrugged.
"What? I don't have time for sleazy, pathetic guys like him." I answered and fell silent as we reached the girls.
"You must be Donna, right?" Dean smiled out the girl who was reportedly Steven's eldest daughter, she had short, dark red hair and a lithe figure.
"Yeah." The girl sniffed and I smiled thinly at her – I hated it when people cried.
"Hi, uh – we're really sorry." Sam told her apologetically and I got distracted and looked around at the drunken throng of people my age: normal kids, doing normal things. I looked at the two girls who sat with Donna, they were both blonde with blue eyes. One of them had her hands around Donna's shoulders and the other one was staring hungrily at the boys, her gaze suddenly snapped to me and she glared at me with a jealous fire in her eyes. I heaved a sigh and rolled my eyes: how did my reflection deal with girls like this on a daily basis? I looked back at Donna and Sam and saw that the boys were looking at me in shock.
"Oh! Sorry, not you. I was just... never mind, go on." I smiled, the girl frowned and Sam stared at me for a long moment before continuing.
"As I was saying... I'm Sam, this is Dean and that's Stephanie. We worked with your Dad." Sam greeted and the blonde girl closest to Donna glanced at her friend and then back to us, I saw suspicion in both their eyes.
"You did?" The girl asked and I nodded.
"Yeah. This whole thing, I mean, a stroke." I made a show of looking sad, but Donna's friend didn't look impressed.
"I don't think she really wants to talk about this now." She dismissed me, I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at her.
"I'm ok, I'm ok." Donna turned to her friend and gave her a small smile.
"Were there any symptoms: Dizziness? Migraines?" Dean asked.
"No." The watery-eyed girl shook her head.
"That's because it wasn't a stroke." The youngest girl turned and looked at Donna, I recognised the girl as Steven's youngest daughter, Lilly.
"Lilly, don't say that." Donna scolded her little sister.
"What?" Sam looked at Lilly in interest.
"I'm sorry, she's just upset." Donna looked up at us apologetically.
"No, it happened because of me." Lilly shook her head, tears forming in her wide brown eyes.
"Sweetie, it didn't." Donna reassured her younger sister, Sam glanced at me and I sighed and knelt down so I was eye level with the girl.
"Hey Lilly, I know this must be hard. How old are you?" I asked her.
"Eleven." The girl answered in a quiet voice.
"You know, I was eleven when my uncle died. At his funeral I had a bunch of strangers in my house telling me how great he was, when the whole time I was doubting that they even knew my uncle's full name." I told her, the girl nodded once and I smiled kindly at her, "Now, you said your Dad died because of you, why would you say something like that?" I asked.
"Right before he died, I said it." The girl whispered, and I frowned in confusion.
"You said what?" I asked her, moving closer to her.
"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror." She explained and then paused and took a deep breath, "She took his eyes, that's what she does." Lilly choked out.
"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault." Donna told her sister in a hushed tone.
"I think your sister's right, Lilly. There's no wait could have been Bloody Mary. Your Dad didn't say it, did he?" I asked her.
"No, I don't think so." The eleven year old shook her head sadly.
"That's enough. Stop it." Donna suddenly snapped at me and I stood up, holding my hands up innocently.
"Come on, guys. Let's go." I told the boys and they nodded and we walked back into the house.
"I wanna check out this bathroom before we leave – maybe there's clues as to why Steven died so suddenly." Sam told us and we followed him up the stairs, the bathroom was like most normal bathrooms, a white cabinet sat above the sink with a mirror on the front door, on the white tiled floor there was still traces of dried blood.
"This must be where his body lay." I said, pointing to where the tiles where whiter than others.
"The Bloody Mary legend... Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked his brother as I traced my fingers around the mirror frame.
"Not that I know of." Dean shook his head, stepping into the bathroom and perching on the nearby bath corner.
"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody
dies from it." Sam continued.
"Maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening." I shrugged and opened the medicine cabinet to reveal a man's toiletries.
"The place where the legend began?" Sam scoffed and I pulled a face as I read the back of a medicine bottle.
"But according to the legend, the person who says B-," Sam glanced at the mirror of the medicine cabinet which was facing him and pushed it shut. "The person who says you know what gets it. But here-."
"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." Dean nodded in agreement.
"Right." The younger Winchester replied.
"So, have you guys ever heard of anything like this before?" I asked them.
"Nope, never." Dean responded whilst Sam shook his head.
"Ok, but still: the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and Lilly's right: the way the legend goes – you know who scratches your eyes out." I speculated.
"It's worth checking into." Sam agreed.
"Right, let's go, team." Dean fist pumped with mock enthusiasm and we turned to leave. As we closed the bathroom door behind us a girl was stood there with her arms crossed and a suspicious look on her face.
"What are you doing up here?" She asked us tersely.
"We – we had to go to the bathroom." Dean stuttered and she narrowed her eyes and looked at me.
"You guys and a girl all went into a bathroom at the same time?" She frowned and uncrossed her arms. "Who are you people?" She asked.
"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's Dad." I told her and she glared at me and scoffed.
"Look, Stephanie," She glared daggers at me, drawing my name out, "Donna's Dad was a day trader, or something. He worked by himself." She told us, Dean and I glanced eachother and shared panicked looks.
"No, I know, I meant-." Dean stuttered but the girl cut him off.
"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming." She threatened, I looked at her and laughed.
"Yeah? You wouldn't be able to so much as squeak." I spat and strode over to hit her, but Sam grabbed my shoulder and hauled my back.
"Stop it." Dean shushed but I ignored him.
"Alright, alright. We think something's happened to Donna's Dad." Sam admitted to the girl.
"Yeah, a stroke." The girl nodded, shooting us an odd look.
"That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else." The tallest boy continued.
"Like what?" The teenager frowned in confusion.
"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth." He answered earnestly.
"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead." I smirked at the girl.
"Who are you, cops?" She said after staring at me, Sam looked at Dean and I for a moment, and then back to the blonde.
"Something like that." Dean replied with a smile.
"I'll tell you what, here." Sam rifled in his pockets and pulled out a pen and a small notepad, and then proceeded to scrawl down his phone number. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary... just give us a call." Sam told her before handing her the paper. We walked past her and I made sure to glare daggers at the girl before we rounded the corner and down the stairs.
"Alright," Dean started as we entered the dark, and almost deserted, library, "Say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some some sort of proof – like a local woman who died nasty."
"Yeah, but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like fifty different versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride – there's a lot more." Sam explained as we walked into the central part of the building, dusty books were littered everywhere and haphazardly stacked on the bookshelves.
"So what are we supposed to be looking for?" I asked, casting my eyes unenthusiastically at the stacks upon stacks of books.
"Well, uh, every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers – public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill." The younger Winchester explained, gesturing around the room.
"Well that sounds annoying." Dean murmured.
"More than annoying, that – that sounds like a method of torture." I groaned.
"No, it won't be so bad, as long as we..." We all looked to the computers and Sam trailed off and I sighed: every computer had paper taped over the screen with Out of Order written on it. There was a pause and then Sam chuckled, "I take it back. This will be very annoying." He grinned, I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes.
"Like I said, torture." I groaned.
It took us three hours before we eventually left the library and were back in the motel room, Sam had crashed out on his bed and Dean and I had decided to just let him catch up on some sleep. Dean and I were working quietly on the table with books splayed out on the table. Sam suddenly gasped awake and I jumped, looking over at Sam. He rubbed his eyes and glared at us, "Why'd you let me fall asleep?" Sam groaned.
"Because you needed it, Sam, you're exhausted." I told him, shooting a concerned glance at him.
"Yeah, yeah." Sam murmured.
"So what did you dream about?" Dean asked.
"Lollipops and candy canes," Sam sighed sarcastically, and then looked over at us, "Did you guys find anything?" He asked.
"Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?" Dean smiled thinly, Sam sat up and stretched.
"Dean's right, I mean, we've looked at everything: a few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy called Dave, but uh, no Mary." I explained, running a hand through my long dark hair and slamming the book exasperatedly.
"Maybe we just haven't found it yet." Sam reasoned, but I wasn't so confident.
"We've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know... eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary." Dean shrugged, Sam opened his mouth to object, but his phone suddenly started ringing and he answered it.
"Hello?" Sam answered tiredly.
"And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her – her eyes, they were gone." The girl, Charlie, had called Sam and told him the news, we found her on a park bench crying her eyes out, her flirty friend Jill had been found dead this morning.
"We're sorry." Sam told her in a soft voice.
"And she said it." Charlie looked up at us with red, puffy eyes, "I heard her say it, but it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?" She asked, her eyes darting wildly at the three of us.
"No, you're not insane." Dean assured her.
"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse." She sobbed and I looked away.
"Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained." I told her, she stopped sobbing and looked at me with bloodshot eyes.
"And we're gonna stop it. But we could use your help." Dean added.
"Err what? Actually I think we, uh, we got it-." I was cut off with Sam elbowing me. Hard.
We were waiting for Charlie to open Jill's window outside her house, "Here she is, finally." I sighed when I felt the air shift above us. The window opened and Sam gave me a boost up into the window, when I was in I turned around and helped Sam up, and then helped Dean. When we were all in Dean threw his black duffel bag to Sam and he set it out on the bed.
"What did you tell Jill's Mum?" I asked Charlie.
"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things," Charlie glanced around Jill's room and hugged herself uneasily, behind us Sam was fiddling with something from the bag and Dean was shutting the curtains, "I hate lying to her." The girl shuddered to herself.
"Well, trust us – this is for the greater good. Hit the lights, Steph." Dean said and I walked over to the switch on the wall and flicked it, the room was instantly plunged into darkness, I stood still and blinked – letting my eyes adjust to the dim.
"What are you guys looking for?" Charlie asked through the black.
"We'll let you know as soon as we find it." Dean's voice answered. To the left of me Sam had switched on a digital camera, the screen showing the room illuminated through night vision.
"Hey, night vision." Sam's voice drifted over to us and I saw his silhouetted hand adjust the screen angle, "Perfect." He said to himself, I suddenly saw Dean's face appear on the screen and he struck a pose.
"Do I look like Paris Hilton?" Dean joked and I giggled, Sam scoffed and walked away with the camera and I saw him open the wardrobe through the dark.
"So I don't get it. I mean... the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?" I asked.
"Beats me," Dean answered as the sound of a wardrobe door being closed sounded. "I want to know why Jill said it in the first place."
"It was just a joke." Charlie answered.
"Yeah, well, somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time." I warned her as I stepped in the bathroom, my ring instantly went cold: someone had definitely died here recently. Sam was at the mirror doing something with the camera and I waited in silence for him to finish.
"Hey, Steph?" He called, in the light of the camera I saw his reflection looking at me.
"Yeah?" I asked, stepping over to him.
"In the trunk of the car there's a black light, can you fetch it for me?" He asked.
"Sure." I smiled and stepped quietly into Jill's bedroom, I collided with someone and they screamed loudly in my ears. "Shh!" I shushed Charlie, clamping a hand over her mouth, "Jill's Mum cannot come up here." I told her, under my hand she was saying something but I had lost interest, I walked over to the curtains and opened one, using one hand to support myself I jumped out. I found the black light in the trunk of the car and walked back over to Jill's bedroom window, using the air to propel myself and reach the window. As I was climbing through I fought down the sudden waves of nostalgia as I remembered the thousands of times I had to sneak in and out of my bedroom window. I pushed passed the curtains and threw the black light to Sam, he caught it and nodded in thanks, he had laid out the bathroom mirror on the bed. I helped Dean peel off the back of the mirror and put it to one side, Sam shone the black light over the exposed back. We walked over to see what Sam was doing and something caught my eye. "There, shine it there again." I pointed to a spot and Sam obliged, the light revealed a hand print on the mirror, Sam moved the light over and another handprint was visible, underneath the print was some lettering.
"Gary Bryman?" Charlie spelled out in confusion.
"You know who that is?" I asked her and she shook her head.
"No."
"So Gary Bryman was an eight year old boy, two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry, but nobody got the plates or saw the driver." Sam told us, we were sitting on the bench in the park again, Sam had his phone out and was reading a local newspaper article fom it.
"Oh my God." Charlie gasped, horror taking over the features of her face.
"What?" I asked her.
"Jill drove that car." She spluttered in a hushed whisper, I looked over at Dean and gave him an alarmed glance.
"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house." Dean told her and she nodded, too shocked to speak.
We snuck into the Shoemaker household and ordered Charlie to distract Donna whilst we went upstairs and prised open the mirror in the bathroom where Steven had died, repeating the same process on the mirror. "Linda Shoemaker." I read out the words as Sam shone the light, I looked up at them and nodded.
"Why are you asking me this?" Donna frowned as she looked at the three of us.
"Look, we're sorry, but it's important." Sam tried, Donna stared at him for a moment before speaking.
"Linda's my Mum, ok? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident and that's that. I think you should leave." The short haired girl pointed to the door.
"Now Donna, just listen-." I put my hand out in an effort to convince her.
"Get out of my house!" She yelled, cutting me off. I winced at the sudden volume and opened my mouth to say something, but Donna was already running up the stairs.
"Oh my God. Do you guys really think her Dad could've killed her Mum?" Charlie asked us with wide eyes.
"Maybe." Dean shrugged.
"I think I should stick around." Charlie said nervously, looking up the stairs where Donna had run up.
"Alright, whatever you do, don't-." Dean warned.
"Believe me, I won't say it." Charlie cut him off and looked at him seriously.
Back in the motel room, Dean had been nominated to look on the computer whilst Sam and I were looking at all the evidence and clues pinned to a bulletin board. "Wait, wait, wait – you're doing a nationwide search?" Sam suddenly turned to his brother.
"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database – at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me." Dean nodded, his eyes transfixed on the computer screen.
"But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town." Sam reminded him.
"I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked." Dean told us.
"But it doesn't add up: the way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern." I frowned.
"I know," The older Winchester sighed heavily, "I was thinking the same thing."
"With Mr Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run – both of them had secrets where people died." I continued.
"Right. I mean, there's a lot of folklore about mirrors: that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them." Sam explained.
"So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it; and punishes you for it." Dean speculated.
"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not." I realised.
"Yeah, take a look at this," Dean swivelled the screen around and showed us a black and white grainy photograph of a woman lying by a mirror in a puddle of dark liquid, which I assumed was blood. Dean clicked on another window and it showed a picture of a hand print on the mirror behind the dead girl – the same one that we saw on each of the mirror backs. Beneath the hand print are the scrawled letters of 'Tre'.
"Looks like the same hand print." Sam observed, looking closely at the photo.
"Her name was Mary Worthington – an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." Dean said.
"Looks like that's our next stop." I smiled.
"I was on the job for thirty five years, detective for most of that." An ageing man in the final years of his job span before retirement, "Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder? That one still gets me." The detective paused and sighed.
"What exactly happened?" Dean asked.
"You three said you were reporters?" The detective asked.
"We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife." Sam explained, telling the detective everything he had learnt about Mary in the past hour.
"That's right." The detective nodded.
"See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened." I told him, the detective looked at me for a moment before shifting his chair back and opening a drawer on his desk.
"Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this," The detective said, pulling out a file and handing it to us, we opened it and were met with the same picture of Mary's murder scene that we found online, "Now that there?" The detective tapped the writing on the mirror, "T – R – E?"
"Yeah." Dean replied.
"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer." The detective explained.
"Do you know who it was?" Sam asked.
"Not for sure, but there was a local man – a surgeon, Trevor Sampson. And I think he cut her up good." The detective divulged, I looked up from the photo and at the ageing man.
"Now why would he do something like that?" I questioned.
"Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, 'T'. Well, her last entry: she was gonna tell 'T's wife about their affair." The detective answered.
"Yeah but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?" Dean looked at the man in interest.
"It's hard to say," The detective stroked his chin, "But the way her eyes were cut out... it was almost professional."
"But you could never prove it?" I piped up.
"No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous." The detective said, as if he was in awe of the murder.
"Is he still alive?" Sam asked.
"Nope." The detective leaned back in his chair and sighed, "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could."
"Where's she buried?" Dean asked.
"She wasn't. She was cremated." The detective told us with a shake of his head.
"What about that mirror?" Dean tapped the mirror in the photograph, "It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?"
"Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago." The detective responded.
"You have the names of her family by any chance?" I asked him and the detective nodded slowly.
Whilst we were driving back into the town Sam had been given the job of phoning Mary's only living sibling and inquiring about the mirror, "Oh really? Ah that's to bad Mr Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. Alright thanks." Sam sighed as he hung up the phone.
"So?" Dean asked, his eyes o the road as he drove.
"So that was Mary's brother, the mirror was in the family for years – until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques: a store in Toledo." Sam explained in disappointment.
"So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?" I asked and Sam nodded.
"Her spirits definitely tied up with it somehow." He said in agreement.
"Isn't there an old superstition that say mirrors can capture spirits?" Dean spoke up.
"Yeah there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped." I answered, remembering Anathem Mire: the ghost who had died in the caves beneath my uncle's house.
"So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit." Sam hypothesised.
"Yeah, but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?" I questioned.
"I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it." Dean said as he turned a corner and passed by the main street of town.
"Yeah, I don't know maybe-," Sam stopped when his phone started ringing, "Hello?" He asked, a panicked voice was on the other end, but I couldn't figure out what was being said, "Charlie?" He asked, leaning forward in his seat.
We had driven straight to Charlie's and found her in the basement shaking in fear and shielding her eyes. "Hello?" She called out when we entered her basement.
"Charlie, what happened?" Sam asked as he ran over to her.
"I saw her." Charlie sobbed out in a strained whisper.
"What? How?" I asked as Dean and I reached her.
"Donna." She breathed out and started crying, I looked at Dean and he shrugged. Rolling my eyes I stripped off my jacket and draped it around her head.
"This'll cover your eyes whilst we take you somewhere safer." I told her and her arms dropped by her sides.
"T-thank you." She whispered and I shrugged.
"It's fine," I told her before turning to Sam and Dean, "Where do we go?" I asked them quietly so Charlie couldn't hear.
"I don't know - anywhere without a reflection?" Sam shrugged and I sighed.
"How about our motel room?" Dean shrugged.
"It'll work. " I nodded and walked back over to Charlie, "Charlie? It's Stephanie. We're gonna take you with us and put you somewhere safe, ok?" I told her in a calm tone and she let out a broken sigh of fear.
"Ok." She whispered.
I was sat on the bed next to Charlie whilst Sam and Dean closed the curtains and put sheets over the mirrors and the TV screen. Whilst Dean was covering the final surface Sam came over and sat on Charlie's over side. "Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?" Sam spoke to her in a calm tone, I reached over and carefully lifted my jacket from over her head. The girl had her head bowed underneath it and looked up slowly at us, I tried to not let it creep me out and sent her a convincing smile. "Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, ok? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you." Sam assured her.
"But I can't keep that up forever," Charlie shook her head fearfully, "I'm gonna die, aren't I?" She asked, her gaze switching over to me.
"No, not anytime soon." I smiled at her again and put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, she suddenly sniffed deeply and I let go of her shoulder and shot up from the bed, shuddering to myself. Dean gave me a look and took my place next to Charlie.
"Alright Charlie, we need to know what happened." Dean said as he settled down next to her.
"We were in the bathroom and Donna said it." Charlie answered in a shaky voice.
"That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life: a secret - where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?" I asked her as I sat down on a nearby chair next to a covered TV.
"I had this boyfriend. I loved him, but he kinda scared me too, you know?" She looked at me for support and I nodded.
"Yeah, I get that." I grimaced, forcing pictures of Caelan out of my mind.
"Well one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said 'Charlie if you walk out that door, I'm gonna kill myself'," Charlie paused and took a deep breath, tears running from her eyes, "And you know what I said? I said 'Go ahead', And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have." Charlie started shaking again, and I suddenly felt sorry for the girl.
"Hey, you didn't expect him too, Charlie. I'd have walked away too." I told her as I got up from the chair and walked over to her. Her blue eyes bored into mine for the longest time before she replied.
"Really?" She asked.
"Really."
I scowled at the rain outside the window in the back of the car as we drove to the antique store that bought Mary Worthington's mirror. "You know her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault." I said, glaring at the droplets as they rolled lazily down the window.
"Yeah, but spirits don't exactly see shades of grey, Steph. Charlie had a secret, someone died: that's good enough for Mary." Sam answered, looking back at me in the car.
"Whatever, this bitch deserves what's coming to her. Did you see how scared Charlie was?" I answered.
"Yeah... about that: I've been thinking, it might not be enough to just smash that mirror." Sam stated.
"Why? What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it." Sam suggested, I looked away from the mirror and frowned at the youngest Winchester.
"Well, how do you know that's going to work?" Dean responded, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Sam.
"I don't." He answered.
"Well, who's gonna summon her?" I asked, leaning forward in my seat.
"I will. She'll come after me." Sam replied in a stony voice.
"What?" I asked in a shocked voice.
"You know what? That's it." Dean growled and suddenly turned the steering wheel and the car veered off the road and into a layby, "This is about Jessica, isn't it?" He demanded as he glared at his younger brother through the dark. Sam stayed silent in his seat, his gaze fixed on something ahead of him, "Well who's gonna summon her?" Dean ranted on angrily.
"Dean, shut up." I told him in a loud, clear voice, "Sam you need to listen: this has to stop - the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night, I'm scared it's gonna kill you." I told him in a quiet voice, Sam's eyes flickered up to the mirror and I saw him looking at me in the mirror. "Now listen to me," I looked at his reflection, "It wasn't your fault, Sam." Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Dean beat him to it.
"If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place." Dean told him.
"I don't blame you." Sam looked at his brother through the dark, the sound of the rain hitting the car was deafening.
"Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done." Dean continued, his voice softer than before.
"I could've warned her." Sam shook his head slightly.
"About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean, me and Steph know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway." Dean scoffed annoyedly at his little brother.
"No, neither of you don't." Sam argued.
"We don't know what?" I asked.
"You two don't know all about it. I haven't told you two everything." Sam responded.
"Sam, what? What are you talking about?" I asked, getting scared of Sam's demeanour.
"Well, it wouldn't be a secret if I told you two, would it?" He answered and then went back to staring out the window. Dean stared at his brother in disbelief before shaking his head stubbornly.
"No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it." Dean told him in a firm voice.
"Dean's right, are you crazy?" I asked him, suddenly angry that he would play the sacrificial lamb to a crazy dead bitch.
"Guys, that girl back there is gonna die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You both have to let me do this." Sam exclaimed, the car descended into an uneasy silence again, Dean reluctantly reversed the car and we were back on the road again.
We were still silent as we waited for Sam to pick lock the door open, we entered the shop and were met with a room full of antique mirrors. "Well that's just great." Dean sighed as he bought out the photo of Mary's murder scene, "Alright, let's start." He said, we split up and silently picked our way over the trinkets and past the glass vases, I clicked my fingers and flames flared up in my palms, illuminating a warm orange glow around the shop.
"Maybe they've already sold it." I suggested, calling out to the two silhouettes of Sam and Dean. The taller figure fished something out of his pocket and clicked it on, I squinted as a torch suddenly shone on my face, blinding me.
"Ow!" I complained as I staggered out of the way of the light, leaning against a century-old dresser and blinking the weird shapes from my eyes.
"Sorry." Sam muttered.
"Found it." Dean's voice cut through the dark and I stood up and made my way over to him, Sam was already beside him shining his torch on the mirror. Dean held up the picture and I saw the immediate match.
"And you're sure about this?" I asked Sam, he nodded once and handed Dean his torch.
"Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary," Sam paused and looked over at us, Dean and I gave him unsure looks and Sam sighed and hefted a crowbar in his hands, "Bloody Mary."
We waited for about twenty seconds in silence when two pairs of beams moved across the back wall of the shop, I turned and saw the red and blue lights of two police cars. "I'll go check that out," Dean said and looked at Sam, "Stay here, be careful." He ordered his brother, I went to follow Dean but he put a hand on my shoulder to stop me, "Look after him for me." He asked and I nodded once.
"Be careful." I looked at him for a moment before turning back to Sam, his eyes were still on the mirror. I turned and looked at the mirrors, out the corner of my eye I saw something in the mirror. I whipped round and looked at the mirror, but the thing wasn't there any more.
"You won't be able to see Mary, so take this," Sam picked up an iron poker from the side and handed it to me, "And I'll tell you where hit."
"Thanks." I murmured and looked down at the iron poker, I looked back at the main mirror and saw a shape on my right, I turned and Sam looked at me, concerned.
"Steph?" He asked, looking down at me, I raised my hand and snapped my palm out, the air rippled and Sam shot out of the way, I drove the iron poker through the mirror and it smashed, the shards of glass burst outward and I close my eyes against the sharp objects, when I opened them there was just a broken mirror with nothing inside it. Sam scrambled up and rushed over to me, "Steph? Steph! What's wrong?" He asked, pulling pieces of glass from my hair.
"It's fine, she's gone now." I assured him and pointed to a cluster of mirrors a few meters away, "I'm gonna check over there, you stay here." I told him, Sam nodded once and I walked away with the iron poker firmly in my grasp. I stood watching the mirrors closely, but nothing shimmered into view, it was silent inside the shop and the poker was starting to feel heavy in my hands. I heard the sound of Sam gasping for breath and whirled. "Sam?" I asked, trying to fight the fear from my voice. Sam didn't respond, and I wandered back over to where he stood, I gasped when I saw his face: blood was lazily dripping from his tear ducts. "Sam!" I shook his shoulders but h's bloody gaze continued to stare at the mirror, "Son of a bitch." I growled and swung the poker into the mirror, it smashed and Sam gasped for breath and crumpled to the floor. "Sam? Sam! Come on!" I called his name loudly as I knelt beside him, shaking his shoulders lightly.
"Sam!" Dean's voice sounded behind me and then the sound of running footsteps came and he was beside us in moments. "No, no, no. What happened?" He asked as he knelt down.
"I was stood over there and then I looked over and he was... bleeding from his eyes and staring at his reflection, so I smashed the mirror." I explained in hurried words, Dean sighed and looked up at me.
"It's fine, it's fine," Dean sighed and slapped his younger brother lightly. "Sam" Sammy!" He called loudly.
"It's Sam." Sam croaked and opened his eyes and I sighed in relief, I saw a shape in one of the mirrors that I had previously stood next to and walked back over to it, when I reached it the shape had gone, all that remained was my reflection. I stared at the mirror and swore I saw my reflection narrow it's eyes at me. I tilted my head and widened my eyes when the reflection didn't copy movements like it was supposed to.
"Look at you," It said in a sinister voice, "Hiding behind this fake name, this fake life," The reflection cocked it's head and glared, "Darquesse," It smirked and blood began to drip from it's eyes, I reached up and dabbed at my cheek, gasping when I felt the warm liquid under my fingers. A pain blossomed in my forehead and the breath hitched in my throat, "How many families have you torn apart?" It asked, "How many loved ones have you destroyed?" It smiled and the pain intensified across my head, I wanted to scream and alert Dean, but my lungs were empty and on fire. "How long until either Sam or Dean die because of you, Darquesse? You're an abomination." The reflection leant forward and the blood continually flowed down her and my face, I thought my head was going to burst. A crowbar suddenly smashed through my reflection and it smashed, the glass cascaded down the frame and pooled onto the ground as my knees buckled.
"Steph! Stephanie!" My eyes found Dean's face looking down at me, his dark eyes brimmed with concern, "Come on, come on. Steph!" Dean shook me by the shoulders and I coughed as the pain slowly faded away.
"I'm ok, I'm ok. Get Sam." I told him as he helped me to my feet, I swayed a little and gripped the table and leant heavily against it. Dean came into view supporting Sam with his brother's arm around his neck.
"Uhhh..." Dean trailed off when he saw how I could barely stand, let alone walk.
"Keep going, I'll be following." I grimaced and pushed myself from the table, Dean nodded and he set off towards the shop exit, practically dragging Sam. I stagered two steps before I stopped and waited for the room to stop spinning. The sound of glass crunching made me turn around and I was met with the sight of Mary Worthington, crawling out the mirror. "Uhh, Dean." I called out weakly.
"What?" He asked from behind me and I heard him curse, Mary advanced and I backed away unsteadily, colliding with something and looking back to see Dean.
"Any ideas?" I asked and he shook his head. I raised my hands and feebly snapped my palms out, the air rippled and Mary staggered back a few steps, but that was pretty much it. "Oh for God's sake." I groaned and clicked my fingers, flames grew in my palms and I threw them at the advancing corpse, she dissipated and reappeared, a sinister gleam in her eye.
"Anything else?" Dean asked and I shrugged.
"Just one." I murmured as I grabbed the shadows from around the room, absorbing Mary's death and sharpened them, firing sharpened shadows at the corpse, they whipped and tore at Mary and she screamed, but then she grabbed hold of one and snapped it and it faded into smoke. "Yeah, plan B - run." I told Dean and we turned and started towards the exit again. We made three steps before we all cried out and fell to the floor, I felt blood trickling down my face and the searing pain in my head behind my eyes. Mary had a small smile on her face as she advanced towards us, I wanted to scream and thrash but the pain was too great, increasing at every step Mary took towards us.
"I got an idea." Dean huffed out and I nodded.
"Yeah? Go ahead!" I replied, Dean reached up and grabbed a mirror and held it out to Mary. The woman stopped walking and looked deep into the mirror, hopefully she was getting a taste of her own medicine, her face contorted as blood dripped down her face. She melted down into a pile of blood and I gasped as the pain receded, Dean groaned and threw the mirror down, where it smashed terrificly on the floor. I looked over at Dean and coughed, Sam had long since passed out.
"Hey Steph?" He said and I looked up at him.
"Yeah?" I answered, exhausted.
"This has got to be like, what? Six hundred years of bad luck?" Dean joked weakly and I managed a grin.
Sam was still asleep in the front of the car as we pulled up in front of Charlie's house, she had gasped when she saw our bloodied faces and hooded eyes, and it had taken the whole journey to try and convince the girl that we were alright. "So this is really over?" Charlie asked for the hundredth time, I looked over to her and nodded.
"Yeah, it's over." I reassured her.
"Thank you." She smiled and reached forward to shake Dean's hand, then she turned and surprised me by enveloping me in a hug, I stayed frozen and she chuckled lightly in my ear. "If you don't hug me back this id gonna get really awkward really fast."
"Yeah, you got my hands pinned down." I replied and Dean chuckled from the front.
"Oh." She said and released me and I nodded.
"Yeah..." I smiled, as an after thought I leant forward and shook Sam awake gently, "Hey, sleepyhead!" I shouted into his ear and he jerked awake.
"Wha?" He answered groggily, rubbing his eyes.
"Time for farewells, Sammy." Dean said and he looked back at Charlie.
"Oh, bye." Sam waved to the girl tiredly and she smiled.
"Bye guys." She grinned and got out the car and began walking up the path to her house.
"Charlie!" Sam called out the open window and the girl turned and looked over to him, "Your boyfriend's death... you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen." Sam advised, Charlie smiled warmly in return and then turned and walked into the house. Dean reached over and hit Sam lightly on the shoulder.
"That's good advice, Sammy." Dean smirked at his brother, Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes as we drove away. I stared out the window of the town as we drove out of it and then remembered something.
"Hey Sam!" I asked and he looked around.
"Yeah?"
"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell Dean and I what that secret is." I told him.
"Well, that's a, uh, that's an interesting question, Stephanie, seeing as you received the same treatment from Mary as I did. You must also have a secret you've been keeping from us." Sam countered, his eyes gazing at me challengingly as he eyed me in the rear view mirror.
"Ah, a secret for a secret, huh?" I asked and Sam nodded.
"Right, ok." I nodded, "Back in my world, there was a, uh, a prophecy, of sorts... It showed me becoming someone who ended all life as we know it." I explained in a flurry of words.
"Wait... What?" Dean asked after a moment of silence, I took a deep breath and started again.
"In my reality, I was set to become the person who inevitably ended all life as we know it. She was... all powerful, evil, malicious. But now I'm here I don't think she's there anymore." I told them, Sam looked behind him and gazed at me.
"Where is she now?" He asked, surprisingly calm.
"She's always been there in my head, locked away in my mind securely." I assured them.
"You're sure?" Dean asked.
"No," I sighed, "But it's all I have at the moment, so I'm gonna go with the assumption that this isn't her reality to destroy." I admitted.
"Well, ok... But if you feel that you're gonna... turn evil any time. You tell us." Dean told me firmly.
"Ok." I smiled and then looked at Sam, "Your turn." I told him.
"Look, I just think that there are some things that I need to keep to myself." Sam informed us, a guarded look in his eyes, I was silent for all of two seconds.
"What!" I exploded, "Sam, do you know how long I had that secret to myself before I told my mentor slash best friend?" I screamed, but Sam wasn't listening, he was looking at something out the window.
"Leave it, Steph." Dean told me and I sighed and shrugged my coat off, using it as a blanket I drifted off in the back seat, welcoming the sleep that overtook me.
Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your reviews! I'll update the next chapter when I get, hmm... 25 reviews? I really didn't realise how much time I needed for these chapters, please tell me whether it was worthwhile or not in your reviews below.