“Bloody Mary,” a disheveled Kyle told the waitress.
“Bloody Mary,” echoed Becky.
“Bloody Mary,” Dean ordered without looking up from his phone.
Immediately, the walls and floor of the hip, bustling brunch spot fell away. Even the apathetic waitress submerged into the ether, along with all the other coffee-fueled, scene-hunting late morning diners.
“Uh, what the hell,” Kyle said, without the energy of a question or a statement.
“This would happen to us today, of all days. Last night, and now this… the universe has it out for us,” Becky replied, as everything around them became entrenched, deeper and deeper into darkness.
“I always hate this place. It’s so extra,” Dean whined. Dean was the worst.
The three friends sat catatonically, with shrieks crescendoing around them. A whirling spirit circled the table, sending gusts between, and in, the faces of the annoyed and un-scared trio. It wasn’t heroic stoicism as much as general entitlement. Usually, if they sat and ignored a problem for long enough, someone would come and fix it. Things always worked out, eventually.
The table shook and the cutlery rattled. Each of them thought they heard a ghoulish voice calling their names, but always thought someone, somewhere was saying their own name.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” antagonized Kyle, who was not sure what Dean had done. Becky also wasn’t sure, but was glad no one was blaming her. Her friends were awful, useless people, but they were woke enough to not blame the woman of the group for everything.
Something apparated before them, slowly filling in and revealing itself. “Sorry, this seat is taken for our friend who is on the way,” Dean alerted the supernatural being, lying right to its hideous, demonic face.
“YOU BECKONED BLOODY MARY AND BLOODY MARY IS WHAT YOU SHALL GET,” a deep, horrifying voice declared down onto the table.
“Wow, nice voice,” Becky said sarcastically. “Do you have our drinks… or like what’s your deal?”
“BLOODY MARY DOES NOT COME WITH DRINKS. BLOODY MARY BRINGS ONLY TERROR AND RUIN AND CURSES.”
“If you don’t bring those drinks and some bacon, egg, and cheeses, there will definitely be terror and ruin,” smart-alecked Kyle. “You don’t want to see two cheugy bitches when they get hangry. They’d give whatever this is a run for its money.”
“WHY AREN’T YOU TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY?”
“Probably because of your bangs,” retorted the increasingly hangry Becky.
“YOU WILL SEE BLOODY MARY IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER. YOU,” she turned and pointed a wretched finger at Kyle, “YOU ARE FIRST.” A bolt of energy shot out from Bloody Mary and Kyle’s eyes began to cry streams of bloody tears.
“That’s some Hogwarts shit!” exclaimed Dean, too simple to grasp the gravity of the situation. He pulled out his phone. “This will make an incredible TikTok. Kyle, look this way.”
“BLOODY MARY IS NOT A PARTY TRICK! BLOODY MARY DID NOT SIGN CONSENT FORMS!” Dean’s phone went flying into infinity.
“Whatever, psycho, I have AppleCare.”
Bloody Mary reached out again, and now Dean’s head was spinning wildly, completely out of his control. Around and around it went, until he puked. Around and around the vomit went. That set off Becky.
“We get it! Sheesh! Calm the fuck down,” scolded Becky. “You need to get laid or something. Kyle, would you pity fuck this mangy bitch so she can leave us alone?”
Kyle would not pity fuck that mangy bitch, but did not dare answer aloud. He saw Bloody Mary narrowing her eyes on Becky, two unholy nemeses locked in a showdown. “Go ahead, skank. I’ve seen enough movies like this. The hot one always gets it the worst. Take out your mental health issues out on me.”
Bloody Mary took a big, deep breath and exhaled, “HOW DID YOU GET LIKE THIS? I HAVE LAID WASTE TO THE WORST, MOST DESPICABLE, EVIL SOULS IN THIS LIFE AND BEYOND. THERE IS NOT A THING I COULD DO TO YOU THAT COULD MATCH THE DEPRAVITY INSIDE YOU. BLOODY MARY DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS SHIT. YOU ALL MAKE BLOODY MARY SAD. BLOODY MARY WILL RETURN TO HELL, NOW, WHERE THINGS ARE EASIER.”
Bloody Mary vanished into a cloud, blending in with the exhaled vape smoke around Dean. The room began to transform again, morphing back into the frenetic restaurant. Kyle, Becky, and Dean watched as order returned around them. The waitress walked by, her courteous smile unreturned by the three nonplussed patrons, two of whom were buried in their phones.
“This place is boring,” Dean complained to no one. “Let’s go.”