Face of Evil

It was supposed to be a game. Nothing more than an urban legend, invented to scare little children. We weren’t ready for the carnage that it brought forth. The terror that came out of the mirror and into my soul.
We were teenagers at a party. A flaunting of everything that was funny and obscene. When the sun went down someone thought of a game to play. At first nobody wanted to play it because it seemed so childish, not knowing of the bloodbath that would ensue afterwards.
I was chosen to say the chant. I stood in front of the mirror as they turned out all of the lights. I heard a few snickers as I said it for the first time.
“Bloody Mary.”
I froze expecting something to happen, when nothing did I, continued on with the chant.
“Bloody Mary.”
A chill ran up my spine. I froze when it came to the base of my neck. Then I heard a laugh and realized it was a piece of ice that someone was holding. They laughed and told me to continue. Promising not to interrupt me anymore.
“Bloody Mary.”
A howling wind erupted outside. We all jumped at the sound of a branch hitting the window. We had another laugh and a few jokes about us being so jumpy. With thoughts of this getting to serious, but not wanting to seem like I was scared, I said it the fourth time.
“Bloody Mary.”
I froze waiting to see if anything else would happen. The seconds crawled by with nothing jumping out the closet. Finally, I said the name for the final time, unknowingly sealing my friends’ fates.
“Bloody Mary.”
We all stared into the mirror. Waiting for the face to appear. The seconds went by at a snails pace. A loud bang made us all jump. Then we laughed when we realized it was my mother coming in through the front door. She called up to see if we were okay. We all told her we were. We decided that we had enough excitement for the night, and we went to our various sleeping places.
The whispers stated in my dreams. They came through the darkness telling me to do terrible things. I tried to ignore them, but they kept getting louder. It was becoming a cacophony when I opened my eyes. They became a voice in my head. I felt like my body was a puppet. I watched in horror my body got out of bed. I got the hunting knife out of the top drawer. It was a present form the last Christmas. It was a four inch blade with a rubber grip around the handle.
I walked over to the first of my friends. He was sleeping silently in a sleeping bag beside my bed. I knelt down and stared at his chest as it moved up and down with his breathe. I stabbed the blade into his chest. He never even woke up as I twisted the blade, stopping his heartbeat. The blood flowed around the knife. A thick coppery smell filled the room.
I walked over to the next sleeping friend. He was sleeping on an inflatable chair that he brought from his house. He turned over in his sleep as if he was having a nightmare. I smiled as I brought the blade to his throat. I was going to relieve him of his nightmare, and release him of his physical pain. I pulled the knife across his larynx. Blood squirted out of the slit. His eyes flew open. I saw horror in them as he realized he was dying. His hands slid off his throat as he died. I watched as the blood stalled into a weak trickle.
I walked over to the final kid. His eyes were wide and staring as he watched me come. He must have been awake for one or both of the killings. I walked over to him. He tried to escape my blade, but I saw him getting ready to run. I stabbed my blade into his stomach. Over and over my blade went in. The blood sprayed over us both.
I was breathing hard as I got up. I turned to my bed and sat down. I looked up into the mirror and saw that the legend was true. If you say the fabled name five times, you will see the face of the devil. 1