One More Time

37.

I hear footsteps walking down the hall making me walk toward the bathroom door. "What are you doing up here," Donna's friend questions.

"We-- We had to go to the bathroom," Dean lies.

"Who are you?"

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's Dad."

"He was a day trader or something, he worked by himself."

"No, I know, I meant--"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that," she asks. We're silent. "So you tell me what's going on or I start screaming."

"All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's Dad," I sigh.

"Yeah, a stroke."

"That's not the sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else," I admit.

"Like what?"

"Honestly, we don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth," I say.

"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead," Dean says.

"Who are you, cops?" We glance at each other.

"Something like that."

"I'll tell you what. Here. If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, give us a call," Sam says, handing her a piece of paper with his number on it. We walk past her and down the stairs.

*at the library*

"All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof-- a local woman who died nasty."

"Yeah, but a legend this widespread, it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is," I point out. "One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride. There's a lot more."

"So what are we supposed to looking for?"

"Every version's got things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've got to search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go, see if we can find a Mary that fits the bill," I answer.

"Well, that sounds annoying."

"No, it won't be so bad, as long as we--," he starts, gesturing toward the computers... that have an "out of order" sign on them. "I take it back. This will be very annoying."

~ ~ ~

As I'm reading through some articles, I hear Sam gasp from beside me. "Why'd you let me fall asleep?"

"Because you need your sleep. So what'd you dream about," I ask.

"Lollipops and candy canes," Sam states.

"Yeah, sure," I roll my eyes. Sam sighs, speaking.

"You find anything?"

"Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration? No," I answer. "I've looked at everything. Twice. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave. But, uh, no Mary." Sam sighs, letting his head fall back on the pillow.

"Maybe we just haven't found it yet."

"I'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." Sam's phone rings, and he grabs it, answering the call.

"Hello."