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The sky was dark, a navy almost black peaking out from stormy gray clouds. No stars were visible, but they never were anyway, closer to a fairytale than something real you could see.
Lampposts flickered on the street, their sterile white LED lights illuminating the filthy dank streets. It was rare to see any lights that were yellow nowadays, not that there was much color in general anymore. I scrunched my nose in disgust at the faint scent of rotting fruit overshadowed by the stench of mildew.
While it was unpleasant, I greatly preferred it to the familiar smell of rotting flesh that seemed to linger no matter where I was. It was still there, inescapable, but barely detectable with the stink of my surroundings.
A faint gust of wind came, blowing my hair into my face and through the thin fibers of my clothes. “God I hate having hair so much, what if I just go bald?” I muttered under my breath in annoyance, struggling to get the cursed strands out of my face.
It was the perfect length to go everywhere if someone so much as breathed a little too close, too short for any weight to hold it down, and just long enough to blind me.
When I finally managed to move the terrible things and regain my sight, I found I was no longer alone.
It made sense, really, with how many people were usually in this area having been alone for so long was honestly more surprising. Despite this, I couldn't help but feel unsettled as I gazed at the figure. And really, figure was the only term I could think of fit to describe them. I couldn't make out any features, and their silhouette was too boxy to make out any real proportions hidden underneath their stiff clothing, not even their shoes visible. The only distinguishable thing I could make out about their appearance was their height, which was quite short, though I couldn't be one to talk.
Not wanting to be caught staring, I went to awkwardly shift my gaze when the figure called out: “You wanna go bald?”
Though I couldn't see their eyes, I assumed it was me they were talking to as I hadn't seen anyone else on the narrow street. “Don't we all?” I responded, not letting the silence go on long enough to be awkward.
The figure tilted their head a bit, and the rest of their body along with their clothes seemed to move with it, almost as if their center of gravity had changed with the movement. “I suppose I can't argue with that...” They said quietly, trailing off a bit at the end.
With their movement, part of their head came into the light, finally visible, if only faintly. Strands of hair escaped the floor length coat they wore, which definitely wasn't a good choice to wear in such a grimy place, but I reasoned that maybe they hadn't originally planned to come here.
Realizing my lack of focus I quickly snapped myself out of my thoughts, spacing out in front of a fully covered stranger in a dimly lit street whose intentions I was unaware of was never a good idea.
Focusing my attention back on them, I noticed they seemed to be lost in thought. It was relieving to see I hadn't been the only one to get distracted and I took the opportunity to take a closer look at them.
Their hair was presumably long, though I couldn't see the exact length with it being tucked into the jacket. The visible strands were fine and silvery, smoothly cascading down their head like water. I briefly wondered if they dyed it, before noticing their skin. It was hard to see the exact color with the sparse placement of the street lamps, but it seemed almost deathly pale with a blueish hue, more akin to what you'd expect to see on a corpse rather than a person.
I figured it to simply be a trick of the light and focused on their eyes. Their eyelashes were the same cool silver as their hair. Their irises through… they sucked in all the light around, having no gleam or shimmer. It was like looking at a still bottomless body of water inside a pitch-black cave with no light in sight. Like staring in the face of an endless nothingness threatening to consume you. And suddenly, that nothingness was staring back.
The air itself became heavier, the few streetlamps lights flickered, and the oppressive stayed locked on me. “Why do you want to go bald so bad?” The unnervingly still figure asked. Had they blinked a single time in the few minutes they'd been standing there?
“I-I mean, hair's just kind of annoying and inconvenient, you know?” I hesitantly replied, utterly bewildered by their choice of continuing the topic.
“Yeah, it really is. Say, would you mind cutting it for me?” The figure inquired, showing no awkwardness or hesitance despite making such a strange request.
Internally, I debated what to say, how was one even meant to respond to such an odd request?
I prepared myself to decline, but before I could get out a single word, I froze. Looking into those pits some would mistake for eyes, I feared what would happen if I rejected them. Though I had made note of their appearance and would be able to give the police a description if I needed to, that only applied if I managed to make it out of the encounter alive. Mentally cursing my luck for meeting such a person the one day I verbally mentioned my desire to go bald, I resigned myself to my fate. “...Yeah, sure, I can cut your hair.”
“Perfect!” They joyfully exclaimed, their mood the polar opposite to my own. “You can get started now!”
Feeling my unease rising by the second, I racked my brain for an excuse, shakily responding: “Now? But I don't have any scissors…”
Unluckily for me, my words did nothing to hamper their excitement. “It’s no problem, there's a pair right by that trash can.” They said breezily, nodding their head to a pair of scissors that had most definitely not been there moments before.
I let out a shaky laugh, “heh, right, can’t believe I missed that,” I tried, twitching the corner of my mouth up in an attempt at a smile I was sure failed. Walking my thick black boots over the trash littered on the ground, I went to pick up the clean-looking scissors, yet another discrepancy showing how out of place they were.
The disgusting stench I thought I'd become accustomed to in the time I'd spent on the narrow street came rushing back as I bent down for the scissors, almost drowning my senses with the pervasive rotting smell that had only become stronger. No longer was it covered by the smell of rotting fruit, instead the odor of rotting flesh had become overwhelming while I'd been too distracted to notice it.
It was as I lifted my head back up after grabbing the scissors that I caught a glimpse of the small figure now towering over me with their rotting skin on full display before they attacked.
‘Well, at least I don't have to worry about my hair getting in the way anymore’ was the last thing I saw before the overwhelming pain took over and it all went black.