365 Fresh

~2~

Catrinetta sighed softly to herself as she met the man who'd scheduled his appointment for a clean shave. Rarely anyone booked a slot for this late in the day, but she supposed he worked odd hours or perhaps was in a hurry. She lead him to his chair, then snapped a long cloak around him so his hairs wouldn't fall all over his neat clothes. As she slathered cream on his face, he broke the awkward silence by introducing himself.

"My name's Seth," he said, watching her with careful brown eyes.

"Catrinetta," she nodded back, leaning over and neatly picking up the blade she used to shave hair that was not quite long enough to be considered a full beard. Gently, she pulled it along the surface of his skin, leaving a small area clean of cream and hair. She gently wiped off the blade with a rag and leaned in to do the next line.

As she bent over, intent upon her work, she felt his cold fingers slide up the inside of her thigh. Surprised, she leaped back, dropping her blade and scrambling to remove his touch from her pale skin.

The man ripped the cloak off of himself, using it to swipe off the rest of the cream in one motion, all the while smiling evilly at Catrinetta, who's stomach was suddenly churning terribly. Thinking quickly, she dropped to her knees and snatched the blade off of the ground, holding it out in front of her as she stood up and slowly backed away.

"So pretty," Seth cooed softly, taking long strides towards Catrinetta, who continued to back away, using the blade as a sort of weak shield. They both knew that it wouldn't do much harm, especially since she was shaking so much.

And in one swift movement, he had knocked the useless weapon out her hands and pressed her up against the counter, knocking other bottles of hair products down as well.

"You're mine, and no one can hear you scream, precious." The statement was mostly true, as Catrinetta worked alone, running her hair salon by herself, a one-woman show. And now, as she thought about it, it was definitely not the smartest idea.

Catrinetta pushed harshly at his chest as he grabbed at her shirt, and he stumbled on some of the wet product that had been spilled on the ground during the scuffle. His legs went out from under him, and Catrinetta watched almost in slow motion as he fell, his head slowly turning and smacking harshly against a handle of one of the cabinets connected to the counter.

She stood shock still as she watched him lay there, unmoving, until she noticed the large puddle of dark blood seeping out from under his brown curls. And then she screamed, and dove forward, snatching up the rag used to wipe the shaving blade and desperately trying to mop up the mess of blood before it stained the ground.

The rag was not nearly enough, and she ripped off her silky shawl, trying to use that as well to remove the staining of the ground, but it was no use.

There was no way to hide what she had done.