19 April 2012
Rain trickled down the busted windows of the ancient Edwardian buildings in Dark CLoud Avenue. He strode at a slow pace, head bowed against the slanting rain - through the wet haze; he saw the familiar red and white glow of a Barber's Shop. Skell walked onwards, his hair sodden with water. Close to the old building now, he could hear noise omitting from the basement. Shivering, Skell still traipsed into the dark, distraught lobby of the shop, his hands trembling.
'H...hello...is anybody there...?' He whispered, his eyebrows rose. A deep cackle reverberated from the basement, Skell's footsteps audibly thudding along the wooden floor. From behind a curtain on the far wall, emerged a man wearing a dirty apron.
He led Skell to a chair that sat in front of a grimy mirror. The chair had thick, leather straps attatched to it, with a metal buckle holding them together. The man ran his long, bony fingers along the thick stubble of Skell's beard: 'so...just a trim? Or do you want...a very close shave?' The man's mouth broke into a mirthless grin.
'Erm...' Skell's brow was sweating on the hairline - he tried to reach for his pocket-hankerchief, but he found that his hands were already bound in the leather straps. 'Just take all the hair off,'
The Barber set to work immediately, sharpening his razor on a blunt stone. He leant in and began to chop avidly at Skell's still damp beard.
'So, where you workin', then?' Asked the man, with a slightly fake sounding Cockney accent. Skell got the idea that he was pretendinf to be a typical Barber - he gazed at his own wavy reflection in the dirty mirror, and the horrible realisation dawned over him that he had made a huge mistake.
'Just a factory worker, forgot that I needed to get the beard trimmed - its might get trapped in a machine!' But that was the least of his worries.
The beard was almost comepletely shaved off, his hair in massive clumps on the floor -strangely, the Barber leant in for another go. He carved out Skell's throat with a sharpened razor, and slung it into a corner. It bounced off of the mirror, giving it a blood red stain that soon turned a bronzing brown. He descended the stairs into his cellar which was shared with the meat pudding maker next door.
'Hello darlin'!' A willowy woman in a similarly mucky apron came down and kissed him softly on the cheek.
His mouth smiled, but his eyes remained unchanged. The woman nodded towards Skell's body - the question was on her lips. However, the Barber second guessed her, 'yes, more meat for your delicious pies...' The woman mimicked his smile and glided over to the body. She licked Skell's bare chin and grinned evily. 'Excellent...'
Death At The Barbers • Opuss № I