Short Story VI: Barberic

He didn’t look too different from the usual hairdresser, except maybe his own haircut.
That’s what kinda threw me off. I mean, how could someone who is cutting people’s hair for a living, look so ill-groomed. But, hey. As long as he can do my hair right and make me pretty.

This morning I overslept and woke up too late. I had to hurry my cute ass up, since I had  an appointment for my haircut at 11:00. My damn alarm clock refused to work. Again. This had happened a little too much the last few weeks and I am really bad with technology. I so needed to get me a new one.

‘Okay, so let me introduce myself first here.
My name is Darlene and I’m a 28-year-old hot mess from Silver City, New Mexico.
I love my little town and the people who live in it. It used to be Apache ground but now it’s a city that is a home to a lot of artists of all kinds, you know. A lot of musicians here. And I love me some music. Did you know our city is quite famous? Billy the Kid used to live here, back in the day. As did Butch Cassidy! Well that was all before my time, obviously.

I live on East Pine, with my bestie, we share house since it ain’t cheap these days to buy yourself a pretty house alone. We do pretty well on our own, but still. It’s quite an investment. So Mary and I decided to buy us a house together. And while it’s not much, it is home.
I work at the Jalisco Café as a waitress and if you ever go there for a bite to eat, be sure to try our chili! It’s pretty darn good!
So, later today, Mary and I are gonna go on a road trip, get away for a few days. A cute cabin in the woods. And before that, I wanted to get my hair did. So… there I am.
At the hairdresser’s. And I thank the good lord I made it on time.
I’ve never been to this salon, it’s really quiet today. I walked past this salon quite a bit and usually it’s busy business in here. Usually I go to see Jenny’s, but she’s gone for the week.

When I came in, the hairdresser told me to wait and sit in the waiting area. He could have just asked me to sit in the barber chair, because this place is empty. Oh well.
“I’ll be right back for you” he told me as he walked out on me, through the back door.
In the meantime I started to read some of them magazines, lying around.
There were a few ShortHair, Modern, American Salon and some e-News placed neatly on the table next to me.
Mostly hairstyle magazines, which don’t really do it for me. Since.. Well.. I’m easy. I just needed a trim, with my sleek blond hair. Nothing much to do with it, than a pony tail or down, I guess.

I heard a thump coming from behind the door, just before it opened and the hairdresser came out.

I tried to make some small talk: “So, business is slow today?”
“Yes. Dead silent today. Take a seat over here” he pointed to the chair behind the mirror column.
The hairdresser grabbed the trolley with his equipment and rolled it towards me.
He took a drape and tied it around my neck. It was a little tight, it made me cough a bit.
“Did you wash your hair this morning..”
“Yes I did.. ”
“..’Kay.”
Alright. This man is a talker… Fun…
“So. What can I do you for…” the hairdresser mumbled.
“Just a trim, get rid of the dead..”
“Will do” he replied, not waiting for me to end my sentence.
He grabbed a pair of scissors and started to look at the back of my head with a bit of a puzzled look on his face.
I looked in the mirror at him and I kinda got uncomfortable seeing this skinny, pale grimace.
His eyes were quite creepy looking as if he had a lot to hide, you could see there was something not right with him.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Darlene, you’re thinking too much again..” I told myself, “Just think about the road trip you’re gonna be on later on. He’s not gonna say much anyway.”

I hadn’t noticed it before, but he had quite a scar down his right cheek.
And apart from his shirt and vest he started to look more and more unlike a typical hairdresser. His greasy, messy, black hair was the first dead giveaway.

I took a deep breath and started to stare at myself in the mirror, trying to ignore him.
“So. Any plans for the day…” he asked in a non-interested way.
Oh my. The man has some sort of social skills.. That was unexpected.
“Yes, me and my friend are going on a road trip.”
“..’Kay. So you will be out of town anyway.”
I was kinda thrown off by the way he asked it, but I replied “Yes…”
He placed his hand on the top of my head and slowly let it slide down the back. This little action of his made me shiver and I felt my eyes get bigger with disgust. Yuck! It was so weird. I looked up straight into his eyes. And when I noticed him looking right back at me, I quickly started staring back at myself in the mirror. Honestly, I wanted to run. But on the other hand I didn’t wanna look like a silly retard.
He grabbed my hair and started looking into my eyes. The creeper. His hand with the scissors went up. It all looked a little strange. I had never had a hairdresser that creeped me out this much.

He leaned over and asked me in a breathy kinda way: “How much can I cut off?”
“Not too much, please” I replied. I hoped he didn’t notice my slightly trembling voice. He freaked me out more and more by the minute.
As his fingers indicated about three inches, he softly asked, a little too close to my ear “How about this much?”
“Yes.. please..” I stammered.
He inhaled slowly, deeply and loud through his nose while stretched his back.
“Let’s cut you…”

His scissors started to cut through my hair.
I looked at the wisps of hair slowly falling down, making their way to the floor.
At first it seemed alright, but the more he started cutting, the more his pale emotionless mask grew into this creepy excited facial expression.
And this next cut was more than the 3 inches I agreed too!
Was I going to tell him?
Was I going to stop him!?
What was I supposed to do??
I had to tell him this was going out of hand, or my hair was gonna look like a messy hay stack being ravished by a herd of hungry cows.
“Sir?.. I think you’re cutting off too much..”
He growled back.

That was it.
I was out of here, fuck it.
I stood up from the chair, but as soon as my butt left the leather seat, he pushed me back down.
“Stay!” he yelled.
Oh my god, what the hell was this?? I didn’t know if I was either getting angry or frightened or both.
Again I tried getting up, but this time he started to breathe heavy, belly growled and he raised his hand.
“Not. Done. Yet!”
With his other hand he grabbed my left shoulder and held me down.
In the reflection of the mirror, I saw his hand with the scissors come down really fast.
“…Fucking bitch…” he said with a dark, deep, angry voice and plunged his scissors down in my neck. I looked away and felt the cold metal slide right into my flesh like a hot knife through butter. It sent a shiver down my spine! Strangely this didn’t hurt, but I every tiny movement I made with my head, there were shooting pains going right through my shoulder, down into my arm and chest..
What just happened?!…
With awe, I looked at my attacker in the mirror. This motherfucker just stabbed me…
He grabbed another pair of scissors and turned away from me. He looked up to the ceiling, raised both his hands and started to develop a deep, thundering monstrous scream.
The coldness of the scissors, that were still poking out of my neck, started to become warmer, and I felt the blood escape the wound. Was I going to pull them out? Would that make it worse? I was so confused on what to do and I started to cry.
It seemed like it was happening in slow motion, so I took the little time I had to let myself fall to the floor, before the chair.
I kicked his trolley against him but that made him more angry.
My neck really started to hurt now and it seemed like I started to lose the feeling in my right arm. I coughed and that hurt like crazy. With my left arm I reached up onto the shelf in front of the mirror to see if I could find something to throw at him.
My hand felt something heavy, I grabbed it and threw it towards the hairdresser, if he even was one. The bottle of hair gel was flying through the air, and while I am a real bad right-handed pitcher, this object seemed to fly in the right direction.
It hit him in the eye and he started cursing with his hand over his left looker. He turned away and kicked the trolley that was lying sideways on the floor.

This was my cue.With the help of the chair I tried raising myself onto my two feet. Every time I swallowed, it hurt like hell. I stumbled away from him to the door behind me.
I opened it and to my disgust I saw five dead bodies lying there in the corner of the small supply room. I dry heaved. One of them, a man, was naked. That must have been the real hairdresser and the killer stole his clothes. Oh my god, he killed all of them.. The owner, the customers, and now he tried to kill me…
Oh hell no, this was not going to happen. I stumbled towards the door in the back of this dimly lit room, which had to lead to the back alley behind the salon. I tried opening it, but no such luck. I looked around for keys. Nothing.
Fuck! The only way out was back through the front door. Was I gonna be able to get past him?…
The door to the salon opened and in the opening stood the hairdresser, looking at me with a deadly grin. He breathed heavy with a grunt in it and said: “No way out, you whore!”
I looked around if I could find something to defend myself with.
There was a broom in the corner near the bodies. Would I be fast enough to reach that? I had to try.
Quickly I made a move at it, but at that moment the man threw a razor that just slightly grazed my hand, enough to cut it. The blood started to flow and my hand got warm and sticky.
What now?
I had to think of something before..
He raised his hand again and I could see he was holding another huge pair of scissors, ready to throw.
“No.. no… please… don’t…”
He started to laugh.

In a flash, I saw his hand come down, throwing the scissors right at me.
Accompanied by a deep breath, my body froze and all I could do was watch the metal blades of this silvery cutting equipment fly through the air. It opened and closed again and I heard the hissing sound followed by a click just before my face. I swallowed away a big gulp of saliva and at that precise moment I felt something push through my left eye-ball.
In an instant, I could only see with my other eye. Half of my sight was blackened as I felt my head fall back with a snap.
I looked at the ceiling, blinked my eye and saw him standing over me. He was holding the broom.
My eyesight was getting blurry from the tears I cried. I tried saying “please don’t kill me…”, but I couldn’t find the words. Something seemed to block that part of my brains. All I could do was look at him. His knee went up and his arms holding the broom went down and with a crack I faintly heard in the distance, he broke the wooden pole in half, leaving him with two pieces.
One piece with the sweeper, which he threw away.
The other piece with a sharp, pointy end. This one came up, pointing towards me and right after, came down.
I felt it hit me between my breasts, my head, arms and legs involuntarily came up off the ground and fell back down again.
I coughed again. This time I could taste the blood.
Slowly I started to lose all feelings and senses..
This was it..
Was I dying?..
I started to feel my mouth fill up with blood. Too much blood…
I couldn’t get no air… A gurgling sound followed by a warm flow of blood running down my cheeks to the back of my head.. I was choking…

The shadow hanging over me, said:
“Let’s… Cut… You…”

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