The Queen's Curls

-1893- Vengence

She couldn't hear the hinges squeak this time.

The parlour woman had one of her switchblades pointed directly at the attacker's neck, just a hair's width away from slitting their throat.

"Who sent you here?" the parlour woman said, her voice quiet. If you had been standing there beside her, you would be able to feel her ever growing rage radiating off of her in red-hot waves.

The attacker scoffs, arrogant even at the receiving end of a blade. "Why would I tell you? You'll just kill me anyways."

The parlour woman pushes her blade forward ever so slightly, and the person in front of her inhales. The woman smirks. "What's your name, love?"

The attacker swallows. "Henry Greene."

"Well, Henry Greene," the parlour woman says, her voice just above a whisper. "If you do not tell me who sent you, I will pluck out every single hair on your body, one at a time. Then I will pluck every tooth out of your mouth and then, once all of your teeth are out, I will stab you with them."

Henry's breathing hitched. "And if I do tell you?"

"If you tell me, then I will make your death quick and painless."

The man in front of her frowns, but seems to consider his options. "I'll tell you, but you have to do one thing for me."

The parlour woman raises and eyebrow at this. "Go on."

"I want you to kill my boss. Please, she's so cruel. Most of the time she doesn't even acknowledge that we're there."

The parlour woman smiles at Henry. "I was planning on doing so from the start."

Henry nods solemnly, takes a breath in to speak, but the parlour woman stops him. "I think I've got something for you to do for me too, Henry Greene."

Henry furrows his brow. "What do you mean?"

"You say your boss is cruel?" The parlour woman offers him a hand. "How about we let her see just what Karma is capable of."

Henry smiles and says, "I think might I have an idea or two."

x x x

The guard at the door beckons them in, giving the parlour woman an extra shove as they enter what on the outside seemed like a side entrance to a diner, but in reality is the following.

On her left, the parlour woman could see what looked to be the entrance to a kitchen and crates upon crates of food. On her right, there were what seemed to be extra chairs for the diner, but they had been lain out in groups, with a few guards mingling among them.

What stood out most was that there was only one table in the room, and seated at that table was a young woman, maybe around twenty years old, with two guards on either side of her.

"Glinda, ma'am," Henry says to get the woman's attention. "I've brought what you asked for.

The woman looks up, her eyes as dead as Charles were. "Why is she alive? Where is Charles?"

Henry shifts his weight and lifts my arm, showing her my bound hands. "I have brought her as a prisoner, thinking that you might want to deal with her yourself."

The woman's eyebrow twitches up ever so slightly be fore she sighs and asks, "Where is Charles?"

The parlour woman could feel Henry's terror at the thought of admitting this to his boss. Before Henry could utter a response, the parlour woman said, "I killed him."

The other woman's face contorts with rage. "YOU WHAT?!"

The parlour woman smirks, ignoring the other woman's outburst. "You heard me. I killed Charles."

The other woman was fuming as she stormed over to where the parlour woman was, stopping just in front of her, and slaps her. Hard. "You killed my Charlie-poo. How dare you!"

The parlour woman laughs, meeting the gaze of the woman in front of her with one full of a dozen glaciers worth of ice. "He never loved you, Glinda. You always need everything to be under your control, and he wasn't happy with that, so he left you."

The other woman reels back to slap the parlour woman again, but freezes, her arm still bent and ready to strike.

The woman's eyes go wide. "What are you doing to me?" she yells. "Let me go!"

The woman is met with a smile of all teeth. "No. I'm not going to let you go any time soon. Now." She turns to the men around her. "You are free to go, loves, but if any of you try to defend your boss here, you will face that same fate that she will."

"And what might that fate be?" murmurs one of the guards that was standing behind the table.

The parlour woman looks up at him, a manic smile on her face. "Death."

At that note, all of the men in the room — including Henry — make an almost mad dash for the exit. Once the room was rid of the rest of the guards, the parlour woman faces the frozen woman in front of her.

"So what are you going to do to me?" the woman says, her voice wavering. "Are you going to stab me with one of your—"

The woman's voice cuts off, and is replaced by a strange gargling sound, along with a couple of coughs.

The parlour woman leans in to whisper in the woman's ear. "Goodbye, Glinda, and may the wisps of time drag your death on for as long as they exist, for your journey has begun with my vengeance."