Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Slutty Mary -

Rating: 0.0/10 (0 votes cast)

Chapter 1

1875

Newly immigrated to the Americas, Sir Thomas Dalton and his wife of many years, Elizabeth Dalton had a somewhat strained marriage. His affairs were becoming blatantly obvious, their daughter was evidence of that, as Thomas had needs that his wife refused to satisfy, and so he had them met in other ways. One of which, produced their daughter, Marybeth. Elizabeth's bitterness defined her existence in a passionless marriage to a man she no longer loved, nor hated. She was indifferent to him and her only joy was found in her relentless pursuit of her craft. Her world was consumed with the desire to wield power over others, to control them and make them her willing slaves, so much so that she devoted her life to the art of witchcraft, in order to obtain the wealth of power.

Elizabeth and her stepdaughter were accustom to Thomas' long absences, and learned to carry on without him. His work took him to distant lands, and he would be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time. Through the years, mother and daughter built a perfunctory relationship. Never were they close, but they could always count on the other for companionship, should the need arise.

Feeling somewhat estranged from her father, Marybeth pled with her mother to allow her to accompany him on his travels, now that she was of age. Elizabeth agreed without hesitation, desiring the time alone to work on her newest spells. Thomas agreed as well, as the season had been unusually mild. They loaded down the carriage with all of her feminine essentials, and the pair were scheduled to travel three weeks along the eastern seaboard, returning one week before Christmas.

The first few days were uncomfortable for both of them, but they soon found that they had much in common. Both loved nature and enjoyed watching the little furry creatures scurry off into the thicket when their carriage approached. Both enjoyed the silence that the inland offered, but longed to hear the crashing of waves against the shore at the coast.

Back at home, Elizabeth looked forward to her time alone. She needed it to work on her magic mirror. She was practicing her craft, testing her powers and perfecting her looking glass. The mirror was a gift from her husband, one of many token gifts he'd brought to her over the years, perhaps to assuage guilt for his many affairs.

She cast spell after spell onto the mirror, until she could see beyond her reflection into the lives of others. At first she only looked for a moment or two, peering into peoples lives without their knowledge, spying on them and invading their privacy. But it was not long before she desired more, her need for power and control intoxicated her, and she cast another spell that she hoped would allow her to travel through the mirror.

As it usually works with black magic, she invoked demons to help her on her quest. Her powers grew stronger with every evil act she committed. In record time she perfected her spell, and could travel anywhere through a reflection, whether it be mirror, water or glass.

What she did not know was that her indiscriminate pursuit of power brought forth a demonic entity that was enhancing her strength as a witch, as it plotted to destroy her life. Soon her soul would belong to the demon and control of her mind and body would be forever lost to the evil entity within.

Chapter 2

Back on the trail, Mary and her father were growing closer day by day, and by the second week, the two were inseparable. Thomas found his daughter to be the most enchanting young woman he'd ever known and he felt dreadful for wasting so much time before getting to know her. Marybeth felt much the same way. She admired her father and felt regretful that she had not spent more time with him when she was younger.

Their fates were set sometime during the second week when the crisp winter morning turned into a wet stormy gale by late afternoon. As the sun lowered in the west, the wind blew gusts of harsh cold air from the north-east. The sky turned gray, bringing with it an ominous feeling that snow was about to fall from the heavens. Thomas checked his pocket watch and realized that he'd made a grievous error calculating time and mileage. They would never make it to the next town before nightfall. They stopped promptly at four o'clock sharp to set up camp rather than risk being caught unprotected in the storm. The two lone travellers were left unguarded and unprepared for what would follow that evening.

Marybeth helped her father set up a small tent and lay in several sticks of wood for a fire. After finishing a meager meal of dried beef and crusty rolls, the two sat by the fire and talked. The flames slowly flickered and burned out. The chill of the evening air drove them into the tent for warmth just as the first few flakes of snow fell to the ground, causing short hissing noises as they hit the smouldering embers.

Marybeth rolled out the pallets, and covered them with their wool blankets. She sat down and brushed her wind blown hair, working the knots from every strand. She took a quick glance in her small hand mirror and set it beside her pallet so that she could use it again in the morning.

Thomas sat on his pallet and struggled to remove his heavy boots in the close confines of the small tent. Marybeth quickly reached over to help her father. "Here, daddy, let me help you." She said trying to be useful; she took his boot into her hands, carefully working them free from his feet with her nimble fingers. She opened the flap to set them outside the tent. Looking around, she saw that in only a few short minutes the snow had already covered the ground with a thin layer of crystal white flakes.

"Daddy, come look. I think we're in trouble." She whispered, frightened at the sight and the idea of freezing to death in the cold.

Thomas opened the flap and looked at the blanket of snow. Concerned for the horses he glanced over to see that they were still nibbling on the ground where he left them, in the shelter of a large pine grove. He knew that if it kept snowing all night, by morning it could be several feet deep and they would never make it to the next town.

Deep inside, he feared for their safety. She looked so angelic and helpless looking up to him for comfort. He stroked her long auburn hair and placed his hand on her chin. Lifting her porcelain face to look into her crystal blue eyes. "Oh, don't worry honey, we'll be fine, it's just a few flakes." He told her with a wink.

Marybeth felt comforted by her father's words and she stretched out on her pallet. She tossed and turned, but found that her clothing kept bunching up under her and the heavy wool dress prevented her from finding comfort. She sat up and unbuttoned her dress, knowing that her chemise would maintain her modesty, and besides, she thought to herself,