Rise Of The Guardians: Bloody Mary

6) Horrors Of The Tortured Field

        Mary didn’t wait in the Parallel for long. She went back to the field. Some how it just felt better to be there, despite her perpetual feeling of unease about it, she knew that it was important. When she arrived back there the sky had turned the lightest blue with yellowish clouds floating above. The trees and the grass looked black against the frosty earth. The field, still in shadows, seemed like a bubble of night left untouched by the slowly rising sun. She nelt in the grass, the fragment of mirror at her knees, shining lazily in the early morning. For a brief moment Mary hesitated. Pitch had said that they wouldn’t be the answers she wanted to hear, maybe she was better off just not knowing. Even still, she knew that if she didn’t look now, she would eventually. Curiosity would never be put to rest. Mary took a deep breath, and laid her fingers on the cool surface of the golden cylinder.

The blackened grass seemed to rise from the ground and engulfed her. When the darkness cleared away she was in a room that looked like the inside of a log cabin. She instantly thought of the cabin at the edge of the field. This must be her home, she must of lived here. Everything was shadowy and unclear. The world seemed to have the feeling of unsteady existence, as if reality could change in a second. There was a little girl in the room, at first she seemed to be stuck in slow motion, but it gradually cleared, and she began to move faster. She walked across the room, one finger stuck in her mouth, her tattered lace dress hanging around her skinny legs and her golden curls dancing about her head. Suddenly Mary felt herself yanked forward, taking her place in this reality. She merged with the little girl, seeing and hearing from her, but unable to control herself. This was it, her past, her life, and she was this bright eyed child.

“Father.” Mary said, “Father look.”

There was a big table in the center of the room. Slumped over it was a huge man. His enormous head resting on his thick arms. The table was littered with bottles thrown haphazardly around, some spilling over. As Mary approached the man there was a thick bitter sent emulating from him.

“Father,” Mary began again, “Look Father, my tooth is loose.” She put one tiny hand to his arm to wake him.

Suddenly the man's great arm swung from it’s position and collided with the side of Mary’s head. The tiny girl went flying to the floor, her little loose tooth scattering from her mouth. She lay there, the world spinning, her vision blurring. Her face felt hot, and tears began to roll out of her eyes. She crawled toward her tooth, taking it in her tiny shaking hands. And then darkness engulfed her again.

When the scene reformed she was just a little older. She looked at herself in the mirror in her room. Her face was puffy and red, one eye forced shut, and turning dark purple. Her arms were scraped and bruised, and she sat on the ground shaking. From other places in the house she heard things being thrown around. Crashing sounds, and glass breaking. Her father was in one of his moods, and Mary knew it be safer to hide.

“Mary!” she heard his great voice boom in slurred unformed sounds. “You get your lousy ungrateful ass out here!”  

Mary jumped. She had to hide. She quickly dragged her aching body under her little bed. It was dark, and the shadows seemed to crawl around her. All the stories of monsters and evil things lurking under the beds of children drifted through her mind. Mary didn’t give them much thought. Nothing had ever come from under the bed to hurt her, but out there? Out there was where the real monster was.

“Don’t worry Mary.” came a calm, low voice from next to her, “He won’t find you under here.”

Mary jumped again, her head whipping around to see the source of the voice. A tall man sat before her. The bed was only a foot and a half off the ground, but the man sat upright, his head seeming to be able to push through the bed into the shadows. His face was long and sharp, and his black hair shot straight back behind him. His grey skin covered by a huge black cloak, and he sat there watching her with piercing yellow eyes.