Bloodier Mary

There was this boy who used to live in the house I lived in five years ago.
He was just a regular kid, with familiar friends, usual hobbies, etc.
He was 10 when the tragedy happened.
My family didn't know they were buying that house, of course; we came from another city and had heard bits and pieces of the story, but what were the odds of the infamous house being the very one that we were going to live in, right?
Anyway, this boy – his name was Thomas – one day finds out about the urban legend of the Bloody Mary. Like any curious kid, he decides to call her and see what would happen. Thomas was super thrilled but also hoping that nothing scary would show up.
But he was out of luck.
"Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary!"
The bathroom got colder, so much that the mirror was foggy. Then a pair of hands were pressed against the mirror from the inside, cleaning up the fog from where it touched. Thomas screamed in panic as the tip of Bloody Mary's nose was pressed against the mirror, and she whispered the word "please."
Thomas was now crying and paralyzed by fear.
Her index finger then ran across the fog, inscribing the word "HELP" from the other side.
Last but not least, Thomas could get a glimpse of her face; it was severely bruised.
After the encounter, the poor boy trembled for a long time and even peed himself, although he wouldn't admit that part to his friends later.
Or at least that's what happens every time I have incredibly vivid dreams where I am him.
After calming down, Thomas did what any curious kid who's been through an insane experience would do: he bragged to his friends about his discovery and invited them over to see it for themselves.
The other boys laugh and act like he's a lunatic, but eventually, Thomas is able to convince his little group to join him in calling Bloody Mary again.
As Thomas' friends had expected, no matter how much they call, nothing happens. Thomas is ashamed, and the others are calling him a liar – that much Thomas' mother could testify to, she overheard them.
She then told the boys that she was going to the grocery store quickly and asked them to behave.
And this was the last time anyone ever saw one of them.
But my dream shows a little bit more of the story.
When the four boys were leaving the bathroom, a masked figure, wearing a long coat, was silently, ominously waiting for them by the threshold.
The pursuit didn't last long, as the adult was fast and prepared for what was about to happen, while the boys were stumbling on each other, taken by surprise and terrified.
The kids weren't murdered; instead, they were knocked out with chlorine and taken to a hidden passageway of this very house, even deeper than the basement; their limbs are tied, and their mouths are sealed shut with silver tape.
It seems to be provisory captivity until the masked person figures out what to do with them.
But I can't see anything past this point. I just spend the rest of the night dreaming of being in the same position, my face pressed against the cold red clay.
I was never one to be superstitious, but these dreams were so persistent that maybe a dead person was trying to tell me something; we were the first family to live there after the tragedy – if I were a ghost in need of help, I'd jump the opportunity to make contact.
I started by asking around the neighborhood. Obviously, no one wanted to talk about such horrible events, but I was able to find an older man who was very interested in the "series of ill-fated events."
First, a young woman named Mary went missing; she was the daughter of another neighbor, and it took a while for them to find it out because she was living in the city. But, if you crossed the dates, you could see that her disappearance took place a mere few days before Thomas'.
Then, the four boys vanished during the short amount of time they were left alone by Thomas' mother.
And finally, a second young woman – the daughter of my next-door neighbor – was killed in a freaky car accident.
Researching old newspapers, I was able to confirm everything.
I knew how to access the secret passageway, so I called the police and prayed that I wasn't being a lunatic.
Four human skeletons were retrieved right under my house; their height was compatible with a ten-year-old kid. The tests confirmed it was Thomas and his friends, but no one knew how they ended up there – they believed the boys simply fell and got lost.
Before finally going to his afterlife, Thomas came into my dream to thank me and told me the truth: the other girl had killed Mary out of jealousy. Even he didn't know how Mary could contact him through the mirror, but the killer heard Thomas talking about his supernatural experience and came after him, afraid to be exposed.
She wasn't expecting to find three more kids, so she left them in a place no one else knew to think what to do about it – her family used to own our house, too, so she knew her way around it.
But, due to her unexpected death, the boys were left there forever, with no one to rescue them or at least put them out of their misery.
Thomas and his friends were there for days until they died of dehydration.
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Satire
Category:Beings
Category:Well, that was anticlimactic.
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Originally on r/shittynosleep