Bloody Mary
Is this for real or just a dream?
Caity Vaduva
Next morning I walk downstairs with Gary right behind me. Both of us want to get a quick breakfast in before we head up to my grandmother’s pride and join, Bloody Mary Inn & Pub. That place brings back memories, mainly of the amazing Halloween parties she used to have.
On our way to the kitchen, we pass my two aunts. Both of them are still wearing full on Victorian Era mourning dresses; their weeping veils right next to them. Gary quickly looks away when the two of them acknowledge our presence. The two glare at us, mainly me, before looking away; snubbing their noses up at me.
“Their glare is creepier than the stare of your two black cats,” Gary whispers as we continue our journey into the kitchen. “And what’s with the get-ups? Is this a Romanian tradition or something?”
“Clothing is too dark to be Romanian,” I reply, “this is more Victorian Era of mourning. Either way, be glad we didn’t go either tradition. Takes way too long for the mourning period. But I really wish we did this one Romanian tradition.”
“What tradition is that?”
“The Wake, you stay with the body for two days because they felt that if the body wasn’t guarded and if an animal crosses paths with the dead, the dead would turn into a strigoi.”
“And what the hell is a str---” I see Gary having trouble with the world,
“Strigoi?”
“Yea that.”
“Poltergeist.” I reply, “or…”
“Or what?” He questions, “don’t keep things away from me Cait.”
“Immortal vampire,” I chuckle, “it’s just legends and myths. Nothing to freak out about.”
“Caity, your family is getting weirder and weirder.” Gary states, causing me to chuckle. I sometimes forget how comfortable I am about the myths involving vampires but I’m reminded that not all people are comfortable with it when I see Gary freaking out.
**
“Why the hell would your grandmother name her bar and inn, Bloody Mary?” Gary asks as we pull up for the Victorian home where the Inn and Pub are located. “Does she know the legend is pretty graphic?”
“She didn’t name it after the legend.” I inform him as I kill the engine. “She named it after her speciality drink, the Bloody Mary.” I laugh, earning an eye roll from Gary,
“I see where you get your humor from.” He mutters as we get out of the car and start towards the Inn. Instantly we are greeted by a girl. Her black hair is straight, making her latte colored skin seem paler than it is. She’s wearing all black and has a Captain’s hat on top of her head. Her make up is dark, making her almost unapproachable; but her smile is warm and welcoming.
“Welcome to Bloody Mary Inn & Pub, I’m Rosary.” She greets, smile growing wider.
“Hi, I’m Caity Vaduva and this is my friend Gary North.” I say introducing ourselves, “I’m Adele’s granddaughter.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Rosary frowns, “Adele was a great woman, she’s greatly missed here.” I just smile because I’m not sure what else to do or say. “How about I give you a grand tour, I’m sure it’s changed a lot since you were a kid.” She smiles at me but when she looks at Gary, her smile drops and her body stiffens. Instead of questioning, I follow her into the old Inn I would spend my summer days at when I was younger.
**
“How did you know Caity’s grandmother?” Gary asks Rosary as she leads us through the Inn. Rosary was wrong when she said the Inn changed since I was there. It hasn’t changed in the twelves years I was away. The pain on the walls is the same shade of dark purple. Black Lace curtains frame the windows and the same dark mahogany wood fills the room.
Rosary looks at him, uncomfortable but answers, “I’m a waitress at the Pub as well as the bookkeeper at the Inn. I started working here when my family moved to Fallenvale after Hurricane Katrina destroyed our family home.”
“How did you hear about Fallenvale?” I ask this time, “this is a quiet, small town. It’s so off the beaten path, it’s amazing you found it.”
“My father said he was drawn to it.” Rosary smiles, “I could see what he meant back then. This place does have that certain something that makes you want to live here forever.”
“That certain something is the reason why I want to stay away.” I mutter but not low enough for Rosary not to hear it. She looks at me and frowns but she remains quiet. That’s until we reach the pub and see two men sitting at the bar.
One of the two men is standing behind the bar, cleaning a Collins glass, laughing at whatever the other man said. He’s tall but not too tall, maybe just under 6 feet. He has medium brown hair and blue eyes that you can see from a mile away. His facial structure is breathtaking; statue-esque almost. A Greek God would be envious of his looks.
The man in front of him, isn’t built like a cold statue. Dark hair, hazel eyes and a build that could possible make Wolverine jealous; he’s nothing like the other man. His posture is more laid back as he loses control of his limb as he laughs at a joke.
Both men turn to Rosary once she made our presence known with a clearing of her throat, “Hey Rosie, what’s hanging?” Wolverine man asks, “and who are your friends?”
Gabe, Abel; this is Caity and her friend Gary,” Rosary replies, pointing to us as she says our names. “Caity is Adele’s granddaughter as well as our new boss.” The man behind the bar grunted, earning a slap from the other man. Rosay turns to me and forces a smile on her lips,
“Don’t worry about Abel,” She says motioning to the man behind the bar, the same man glaring at me. “Abel is well an asshole. Don’t listen to a thing he says. Gabriel is the one you should go to if you need help. He’s a regular here and a lot nicer than his friend.” The man sitting at the bar walks up to us,
“I’m Gabriel,” he smiles, “call me Gabe for short. It’s nice to finally meet you Caity.”
“Finally?” I question, earning a chuckle from the man in front of me.
“Adele talked about you a lot,” he shrugs, “it’s like I already know you.”
“She talked about me?” To say I’m shocked would be an understatement.
“All the time,” Gabriel smiles, “isn’t that right, Abe?”
Abel just snorts before continuing to make a drink for himself, Gabriel sighs before turning his attention back to me.
“Is he always like that?” I ask.
“Sadly yes,” he answers, “especially around new people.” I don’t have to look up to know Abel is glaring at me; making me feel even more uncomfortable than before...
Next morning I walk downstairs with Gary right behind me. Both of us want to get a quick breakfast in before we head up to my grandmother’s pride and join, Bloody Mary Inn & Pub. That place brings back memories, mainly of the amazing Halloween parties she used to have.
On our way to the kitchen, we pass my two aunts. Both of them are still wearing full on Victorian Era mourning dresses; their weeping veils right next to them. Gary quickly looks away when the two of them acknowledge our presence. The two glare at us, mainly me, before looking away; snubbing their noses up at me.
“Their glare is creepier than the stare of your two black cats,” Gary whispers as we continue our journey into the kitchen. “And what’s with the get-ups? Is this a Romanian tradition or something?”
“Clothing is too dark to be Romanian,” I reply, “this is more Victorian Era of mourning. Either way, be glad we didn’t go either tradition. Takes way too long for the mourning period. But I really wish we did this one Romanian tradition.”
“What tradition is that?”
“The Wake, you stay with the body for two days because they felt that if the body wasn’t guarded and if an animal crosses paths with the dead, the dead would turn into a strigoi.”
“And what the hell is a str---” I see Gary having trouble with the world,
“Strigoi?”
“Yea that.”
“Poltergeist.” I reply, “or…”
“Or what?” He questions, “don’t keep things away from me Cait.”
“Immortal vampire,” I chuckle, “it’s just legends and myths. Nothing to freak out about.”
“Caity, your family is getting weirder and weirder.” Gary states, causing me to chuckle. I sometimes forget how comfortable I am about the myths involving vampires but I’m reminded that not all people are comfortable with it when I see Gary freaking out.
**
“Why the hell would your grandmother name her bar and inn, Bloody Mary?” Gary asks as we pull up for the Victorian home where the Inn and Pub are located. “Does she know the legend is pretty graphic?”
“She didn’t name it after the legend.” I inform him as I kill the engine. “She named it after her speciality drink, the Bloody Mary.” I laugh, earning an eye roll from Gary,
“I see where you get your humor from.” He mutters as we get out of the car and start towards the Inn. Instantly we are greeted by a girl. Her black hair is straight, making her latte colored skin seem paler than it is. She’s wearing all black and has a Captain’s hat on top of her head. Her make up is dark, making her almost unapproachable; but her smile is warm and welcoming.
“Welcome to Bloody Mary Inn & Pub, I’m Rosary.” She greets, smile growing wider.
“Hi, I’m Caity Vaduva and this is my friend Gary North.” I say introducing ourselves, “I’m Adele’s granddaughter.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Rosary frowns, “Adele was a great woman, she’s greatly missed here.” I just smile because I’m not sure what else to do or say. “How about I give you a grand tour, I’m sure it’s changed a lot since you were a kid.” She smiles at me but when she looks at Gary, her smile drops and her body stiffens. Instead of questioning, I follow her into the old Inn I would spend my summer days at when I was younger.
**
“How did you know Caity’s grandmother?” Gary asks Rosary as she leads us through the Inn. Rosary was wrong when she said the Inn changed since I was there. It hasn’t changed in the twelves years I was away. The pain on the walls is the same shade of dark purple. Black Lace curtains frame the windows and the same dark mahogany wood fills the room.
Rosary looks at him, uncomfortable but answers, “I’m a waitress at the Pub as well as the bookkeeper at the Inn. I started working here when my family moved to Fallenvale after Hurricane Katrina destroyed our family home.”
“How did you hear about Fallenvale?” I ask this time, “this is a quiet, small town. It’s so off the beaten path, it’s amazing you found it.”
“My father said he was drawn to it.” Rosary smiles, “I could see what he meant back then. This place does have that certain something that makes you want to live here forever.”
“That certain something is the reason why I want to stay away.” I mutter but not low enough for Rosary not to hear it. She looks at me and frowns but she remains quiet. That’s until we reach the pub and see two men sitting at the bar.
One of the two men is standing behind the bar, cleaning a Collins glass, laughing at whatever the other man said. He’s tall but not too tall, maybe just under 6 feet. He has medium brown hair and blue eyes that you can see from a mile away. His facial structure is breathtaking; statue-esque almost. A Greek God would be envious of his looks.
The man in front of him, isn’t built like a cold statue. Dark hair, hazel eyes and a build that could possible make Wolverine jealous; he’s nothing like the other man. His posture is more laid back as he loses control of his limb as he laughs at a joke.
Both men turn to Rosary once she made our presence known with a clearing of her throat, “Hey Rosie, what’s hanging?” Wolverine man asks, “and who are your friends?”
Gabe, Abel; this is Caity and her friend Gary,” Rosary replies, pointing to us as she says our names. “Caity is Adele’s granddaughter as well as our new boss.” The man behind the bar grunted, earning a slap from the other man. Rosay turns to me and forces a smile on her lips,
“Don’t worry about Abel,” She says motioning to the man behind the bar, the same man glaring at me. “Abel is well an asshole. Don’t listen to a thing he says. Gabriel is the one you should go to if you need help. He’s a regular here and a lot nicer than his friend.” The man sitting at the bar walks up to us,
“I’m Gabriel,” he smiles, “call me Gabe for short. It’s nice to finally meet you Caity.”
“Finally?” I question, earning a chuckle from the man in front of me.
“Adele talked about you a lot,” he shrugs, “it’s like I already know you.”
“She talked about me?” To say I’m shocked would be an understatement.
“All the time,” Gabriel smiles, “isn’t that right, Abe?”
Abel just snorts before continuing to make a drink for himself, Gabriel sighs before turning his attention back to me.
“Is he always like that?” I ask.
“Sadly yes,” he answers, “especially around new people.” I don’t have to look up to know Abel is glaring at me; making me feel even more uncomfortable than before...