Things get increasingly weird and more terrifying for Bobbie and Naya, until it becomes all too clear that Bloody Mary was indeed called from the afterlife that night, and she is definitely not a friendly ghost.

The mirror started to steam up and she pulled off her robe. Roll on the Christmas holidays where she'd be able to shower in a room without the collective DNA samples of twenty other girls. At least the water was hot. The pressure wasn't bad either and she let the jet pummel her back for a few minutes before washing her hair. She had the shower room to herself for once, a rare luxury, and she'd have stayed longer if her stomach hadn't been rumbling. She twisted the shower nozzle off and, not wanting to get soap in her eyes, blindly reached for her towel on the rail. She curved an arm around the curtain, waving it left and right, unable to locate the towel rail just outside the cubicle. Her hand brushed against someone - specifically someone's hair. She recoiled. Bobbie was sure she'd been alone. 'Sorry! I didn't know there was anyone . . .' She wiped the water out of her eyes and gingerly pulled back the mildewed shower curtain. The washroom was empty. Bobbie wrapped the towel around her soaking body and listened carefully. The room was thick with steam and there was a constant drip, drip, drip from the shower, but the room was deserted. 'Hmmm,' Bobbie said, stepping out of the shower stall and onto the cool tiles. 'That's weird.' Perhaps she'd grazed her hand on the towel, but it really had felt like hair. As the extractor fan creaked and groaned, removing the excess steam, Bobbie saw the mirror clearly. Someone had written in the condensation on the glass, little streams of water running like veins from the words. It didn't make any sense to Bobbie. The two words simply read: 5 DAYS