Sams hair salon

Sexy Hair: The Sexiest Hair on the Net

2014.02.22 06:55 rage310 Sexy Hair: The Sexiest Hair on the Net

The sexiest hair on the internet. Blonde, Brunette, Redhead, Dyed, Short, Long (especially long), Curly, Straight, Wavy, Braids, Pigtails, Ponytails....this is the place to find and submit pictures, videos or gifs of sexy women with incredibly sexy hair.

2011.05.03 21:19 FemaleHairAdvice

Welcome to femalehairadvice! We are a community focused on hair advice for women, non-binary, trans, and gender non-confirming individuals. We have a zero tolerance policy for hateful, negative content, and hair fetishism.

2011.12.09 16:44 nikiverse Curly Hair

For all natural curlies, coilies, and wavies! All hair is good hair. Find help with your hair, recommendations on products, technique advice... anything to help embrace your texture!

2023.05.29 18:22 a_bluebirdinmyheart disgust and disappointment

i (21f) have been vegetarian since i was 11 years old, and went vegan a few months ago. eating meat has never felt right to me and i stopped eating it pretty much as soon as i found out people could be vegetarian. not eating meat has been something that i've always felt very strongly about, but i honestly didn't think much about it for a long time. all i did was avoid meat and meat products and go on my merry way. but since realizing the hypocrisy of me consuming animal products and making the switch to veganism, it's been on my mind a LOT. i am a people pleaser, and i have always tried to appear "chill" about my views, so as to make sure nobody thought i was a preachy vegan. but i'm becoming aware of that now, and it disgusts me. why should i have to pretend i don't care about murder? i have always told people "oh i'm just vegetarian/vegan, but u can do whatever u want!" i've made myself quieter, more docile, just to gain people's affection. if i'm completely honest, the idea that people i love and care about pay to murder animals makes me absolutely sick. how could people not have the same empathy that i had when i was fucking eleven years old? how could such intelligent people be so completely blind to their hypocrisy? going vegan gave me a rush of excitement and happiness at first, because i started to truly live within my own moral compass. i've been told my entire life i need to "toughen up" but there are millions of vegans who never did. that was lovely, but the past few months i've had moments where i've been ripping my hair out at shit i used to just ignore. i was watching a youtube video about disturbing historical events, and the host skipped over the ones about animal abuse because it "upset her too much" but then in her advertisement SHE WAS COOKING MEAT! that wouldn't have been that upsetting to me before, but now it just makes me angry. how could anyone be that stupid? i work at a dog grooming salon, and obviously all of my coworkers love dogs and cats, and claim to love all animals; but i am the only vegan that works there. none of them are even vegetarian. they'll bring dead animals to eat, into a place where we pet and take care of animals. how could their cognitive dissonance be so severe? i was dogsitting for a friend of mine, and she had a bunch of cow decorations in her house, which made me happy because i love cows. but on the last day i was there, she texted and asked me to take the ground beef out of the freezer for her. i'm sure she didn't think about it like that, but how dark is it to decorate your home with images of the animals you pay to have raped and murdered? i'm happy i went vegan, i just didn't know it'd be so goddamn frustrating.
submitted by a_bluebirdinmyheart to Vystopia [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 18:19 BillB0ard Long haired man haircut recc’s

Girls, please drop your hair salon recommendations, can’t trust these barber shops lol
submitted by BillB0ard to Heidelberg [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 18:16 alulu5 Black hair salons in Dothan / 2 hour radius?

I have thick natural hair. Any suggestions for black hair salons, or hairstylists familiar with natural hair?
I've had upsetting experiences in the past, so someone known for having actual experience cutting and styling natural hair is a must. (I really don't get how people become hairstylists without learning natural hair...)
For reference, I've went to Chapman Green Salon and another salon in Sun Plaza near-ish to the mall. I also went to Curltopia in Atlanta a year or so ago, and I didn't really care for how uneven an improperly done devacut looked on my cut-too-short curls. I just need a good trim, not a haircut.
submitted by alulu5 to Dothan [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 18:14 Doctor-Patronising GLF: FRAG ep 3

Hardy came as soon as Bread texted him that Kingo was at his house. Hardy's hair was messy due to the wind blowing it to and fro, but that wasn't important right now. Kingo was. Hardy arrived at Bread's house, he got off his bike and approached the front door. He knocked gently, because he knew Bread's grandmother hated loud knocking, or just anything even remotely loud in general. Knock, knock, knock. Hardy waited for someone to greet him, either by opening the door, or just speaking to him from the inside. Nothing happened. Hardy sighed. He tried again, but as he was about to knock, Bread's sister Samantha opened the door.
"If you're here for Jamie, he's in his room." Samantha looked at Hardy and was a bit creeped out, mostly due to the urgency visible on his face.
"May I come in?" Hardy asked, and then tried to look like a normal visitor would. He tried to not seem too eager and didn't even say goodbye to Samantha, but Sam was just too good at reading people's eyes.
"Yeah. I guess." Samantha stepped aside, letting him into the house.
Once inside the house, Hardy darted for Bread's room. He opened Bread's room door, but forgot to tell Bread he was let in, startling Bread.
"How is he?" Hardy asked, examining Kingo's unconscious state. He looked so peaceful, although a bit shocked.
"He seems alright. His breathing is steady. I don't see any broken bones." Bread said.
"How long has he been here?" Hardy asked once more.
"About three, maybe four hours now." Bread replied.
Hardy sat down next to Bread and then he looked at him. "Did he say anything before he was here?"
"Nothing much, other than that the Frennon Cult was after him. Which would be impossible right now, considering the Frennon Cult has no reason to target us right now." Bread remarked casually, yet hiding his concern behind a smile.
"Well they do now, Bread. They do now." Hardy sighed, he looked at Bread with eyes that said a lot more than words ever could.
Hardy interrupted Bread, "Pain's dead, Bread... Pain's dead..."
"What...?" Bread was confused, and his eyes were slowly growing wide. Hardy stared at him, his eyes almost completely hollow. "I- I never got to say goodbye..." The realization hit Bread like a truck, and his face was torn by emotions. His mouth was moving, saying something. A feeling of hopelessness was sweeping over him.
Hardy wasn't done yet. "Kingo witnessed it. Apparently Pain decided enough was enough, and attempted to end the Frennon Cult himself by running in alone. He... He didn't make it out alive..."
The room was silent, almost deafening, until Bread started laughing. It wasn't out of joy, but almost as if he couldn't let Pain die without one final laugh together - In spirit.
"I always told him, don't go in alone." Bread chuckled, "And what did he do? He went in alone" His face was somber yet exuberant.
"Do you remember, Hardy, when Pain double dipped his chip and we called him out for it? And he said it doesn't count because he turned the chip around?" A smile was forming on Bread's face.
"Yeah, I remember it. Like it was yesterday." Hardy smirked slightly.
"You remember when Pain got his first girlfriend? And how he bragged for weeks about it?" Bread remembered.
"And how when she broke up with him, we all spent the night together watching silly 80's anime to cheer him up." Hardy didn't want his only memory of Pain to be a somber one.
"Man, Pain was a wreck for a week, man, after that." Bread leaned forward.
"Do you remember when Pain got us lost on our Juniors Year hiking trip for Ms. Donovan's class? He was so confident he was right too…" I'm that moment, all the times Pain and Hardy spent together came flooding back.
"Those were some good times, yeah…" Bread wrapped his right arm around Hardy, the two embracing each other, helping the other through the loss of a best friend.
"Pain was a good man.." Hardy frowned a bit, but not too much for Bread to notice.
"I'm gonna miss him, man. But he's in heaven now, probably kicking all sorts of demon butt." Bread jokes.
"Yeah… probably…"
submitted by Doctor-Patronising to Dbmlore [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 18:01 whatsernamme Where can I get my hair braided with included additional services?

I’m looking for a place where I can get braided preferably in a salon with a hair wash included. I went to a place in downtown and didn’t really have the best experience. She was the only person I could find that did everything. Hoping to experience someone else!
I usually get knotless braids.
submitted by whatsernamme to oakland [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 17:44 Hodl4success Ladies PLEASE stop!

Men are the provider is being wrongly misinterpreted, as to men are our personal 🐷 bank!
It’s insane how a lot of women (esp younger generation) are so hooked on men being the provider. Which I’m okay with. BUT they are taking it way out of context. That doesn’t mean the man PAYS for 100% of everything and you just sit on your stack up all your money.
There’s also a thing called (helpmate), which is your role in a traditional relationship. It’s crazy how a lot of women are only picking traditional values/qualities that benefit them. But when it’s time to doing your part… you scream “that’s struggle love”.
Stop misinterpreting what struggle love means. There’s nothing wrong with helping your man out. I’m not saying it HAVE to be 50:50. But it’s a minority of relationships/households, where the man pays for 💯 of EVERYTHING in today’s society (not excluding trips/hainails/trips/shopping). I’m not saying there’s not men who are able/currently doing that. But it’s definitely not the majority or even near 50% of men. Especially when you factor in kids!
Before you come in here and misconstrue what I’m trying to convey. I’m not saying you should be with a man who doesn’t have his stuff in order (roof over his head, car, stabled income, decent credit, and etc). That’s NOT what I’m advocating. But 🛑 saying there’s no good men out here. It’s not that there’s no good men, we just don’t want to get f*** financially by our woman. We already getting f**** by Uncle Sam, our jobs, and life.
I’m all for treating a woman out, massages, good food, gifts, trips together, spontaneous activities and etc. But damn… we not the federal reserve. We can’t just print money out of thin air.
I understand back in the day it was more feasible for the man to provide everything. But times are WAY different today, there’s a thing called COST OF LIVING/INFLATION. It’s not that men don’t want to provide and are just losers. The market is NOT the same anymore.
The chances of majority women finding a high earning man ($6 figures or more) is impossible. Cause there’s a small % of men who even make that much. That’s not even factoring in if they are already married/compatibility/etc.
Why would you want to overburden a man with such financial responsibilities, especially when you are already working as well. If a man is paying the rent/or mortgage, utilities, miscellaneous stuff… the least you can do is pull your weight as well. That alone is more than 70% of your living expenses (we haven’t even factored in daycare/other childcare expenses). What’s wrong with you buying food, paying your car note (most likely had that car loan prior to even meeting him), phone, and your personal self care (you should be doing that regardless if you’re in a relationship). If your man does extra outside of that, that’s a bonus. But it shouldn’t be a monthly obligation.
Please 🛑.
*Before you comment that us men need to stop looking for these type of women. These type of women are EVERYWHERE (If you aren’t one of these type of women this post isn’t for you). It’s not just women who still live with their parents. It’s single women, single moms, blue collar, white collar, and etc. They’re everywhere 😂. It’s a damn epidemic 😆.
submitted by Hodl4success to rant [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 17:12 TheSadPhilosopher Gwen Stacy is a white supremacist, JJJ is an ally though

Gwen Stacy is a white supremacist, JJJ is an ally though submitted by TheSadPhilosopher to dccomicscirclejerk [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 17:00 pointofextinction How to handle work stress

I was sober Jan 1- Apr 29, then relapsed and have been drinking since. I’m recommitting to my sobriety today, but really struggling with work stress. I relapsed AT work. I’m a hairstylist and pretty much self employed. We have a fridge at the salon with alcohol in it at all times, and really no rules. It’s not uncommon to have a drink at work to deal with crazy, stressful clients. I’ve been doing hair a long time, and there’s always been a lot of drinking and partying in the salon culture. I’m just really struggling lately with going to work and listening to everyone else’s shit all day long, and pretending I’m fine (I am NOT). On top of that, at the end of a work day (8-10 hrs) I come home to a sad, dysfunctional marriage where I also don’t feel free to just relax and be myself. I dread going to work in the morning, and I often dread coming home after work. So I drink to numb the dread. My husband seems to like drunk, “happy” me better anyways. I’m truly at a loss of what to do. I can’t afford to not work, or to get out of my relationship. Any tips on making it all more bearable while trying to get sober again?
submitted by pointofextinction to stopdrinking [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 16:56 bimbo_wannabe_ [I Accidentally Joined The Mafia In South Brooklyn] Chapter 6: On The Organizational Habits of Unrested Spirits and The Taste of Demon's Blood, Part 1.

[I Accidentally Joined The Mafia In South Brooklyn] Chapter 6: On The Organizational Habits of Unrested Spirits and The Taste of Demon's Blood, Part 1.
Previous Part:
Becca invited me to her apartment when we made it back, sent me through the alley behind the building to keep the prying eyes at the minimum. That was fine with me as I was a lot more noticeable than I liked to be, at the moment. I had already lit a cigarette by the time she opened the back door of the stairwell to let me in. It was the last in the pack, and I'd only opened it this morning. The temperature on my phone screen had finally hit zero.
"You're gonna have to give me a second, B, I don't wanna smoke around you in your condition but I really need one."
She gave me another watery grin.
"Little too much blood in the nicotine system, huh?"
"Exactly, my young friend, exactly that."
She propped the door open and sat herself down on the ground. I could tell the high heels were starting to hurt her because she kicked them off and set them neatly to the side, though I knew the concrete had to be freezing her feet off. She tucked her skirt between her legs and sat with her back against the wall, her elbow propped on her bent knee, the other leg stretched out straight before her. It was exactly how what was left of Antoni had been sitting beside me less than two hours ago.
I was getting a little tired of all the patterns appearing in my life these days.
I flipped to my news app, as was my habit. There was an article at the top of page about the preparations the SDNY were making to get ready for the coming storm, but frankly I didn't really give a fuck so I just kept scrolling.
"Your old neighborhood is in the news, B."
"You ain't had enough bad news?" Beccs asked with a rueful laugh.
"Eh, I like to stay abreast of current events. I mean, you got me pegged, B. I'm a nosy fuck. But, uh, fifteen years on the inside, you learn that it pays to pay attention to the shit other people don't notice, cause you never know when the information you pick up is going to end up being the information you need."
She gave me a look that said she had to yield to my point.
"So what's the news from Koreatown?".
"Somebody shot a wedding up, apparently. Says seven were killed, including the bride and groom and the bride's father, as they was leaving the reception. You know, most of these names are Rhees. Ain't nobody you know, is it? Kinda feel like you've had enough death for the day, kid."
There was another look on her face, one I couldn't quite read even with all my people-watching prowess.
"Lemme take a wild stab at it. Two of those names are Rhee Seong-Min and Rhee Bong-Cha."
"Yeah," I nodded. "You do know 'em. I'm sorry, B."
She gave a low, almost rumbling, chuckle. It gave me a little shiver, not from the cold, and not one of enjoyment, either. She flashed a sign, one I'd seen her flash before, but it wasn't from any gang I knew personally, and lacking any official affiliation of my own, I'd dealt with my fair share of different gang members in the Upstate Correctional Facility. Double E's, one backwards, one forwards, three quick shakes of each hand.
"God bless old K-town. But you ain't got to worry about it. I'll not shed a tear over any of them. They's family, but they ain't exactly family, you know. I might tell you about it one day."
The last sentence had a note of finality to it, so I didn't ask any further questions in that regard, but I was still as curious as always.
"If all your family has Korean names, how the hell did you end up as Rebecca and your Dad as Sam?"
"My Dad's name is Park Kyung-Sam. Just Sam was easier to tell people and he, uh, he wanted me to have the same benefit of blending in in American society, and he liked the name Rebecca. So, Rhee Rebecca Hyo-Jin. My Mom's name was Rhee Chung-Cha, but everybody just called her ChaCha, like from Grease."
"So your Mom was the Rhee?"
She made an affirmative noise and nodded.
"She didn't exactly wanna give up her family name, and… my Dad didn't exactly give a fuck cause he was in love with her crazy ass. You know, that's where I get this from. Except my Moms, if she was still around she'd make me look like I grew up to be a calm, quiet girl."
I'd hate to see what was worse than Beccs.
"You done?" Becca asked. I nodded, tossed my cigarette into the sand-filled bucket we kept here for just that purpose. I followed B inside and we climbed the stairs to the third floor. I leaned against the wall as she pulled a ring of keys from her coat pocket and waited while she unlocked the knob and the three deadbolts on her door.
"Pretty serious about your home security, B?"
She shot me a look but didn't say anything as she opened the door. A steady beeping greeted us, and Becca stopped just inside and punched in a code on a security panel. As I stepped around her and entered the apartment, I understood why.
Do you know that part in Coming To America where Akeem comes home to his dilapidated Queens apartment and realizes Semmi has filled it with expensive furniture? Well, it was exactly like that. Becca locked the door back behind her, threw her stilettos onto the shoe rack, and hung her coat on the brass tree beside it. I did the same, removed my boots to place them on the rack as well.
"Jesus Christ, B, this place looks amazing."
There was a gray suede sectional in the center of the living room, a 152 inch Panasonic plasma bolted to the wall. The coffee table, the wool Oriental rug beneath it, and the end tables looked antique, as well as the green velvet chaise set near one window. There were three ornately-carved bookcases set against the far wall between the two windows facing the street, one filled with DVDs, and on the other two almost all the books were old and leather bound. The kitchen was open to the room, separated by a butcher block bar from the living room, all matching stainless steel appliances and black marble countertops. All along the walls were family pictures dotted between massive paintings held in golden Baroque style frames.
They were… stunning was the only word I could think to describe them. Most of them were portraits done in a slightly impressionist style, impasto if my memory served me, seemingly random strokes of thick paint that somehow managed to form the perfect images of faces and a few nudes.
"Jesus Christ, these paintings must have cost a fortune alone."
Becca stepped beside me, her arms crossed over her chest as she surveyed the painting I was looking at. It was done in mostly black and red, the image of a sleeping nude man, one arm tucked behind his head, his other draped across his stomach, his hips and legs covered with a sheet. If I touched it, I could have felt the wrinkles in the bunched fabric. There was something oddly familiar about it.
"They didn't cost shit," she answered.
That made me look away from the painting and back to Beccs.
"What the hell? Did you rob a gallery?"
"No, you mook, I painted them. They didn't cost anything but the price of the canvas and the paint, which, you know, I stole most of that from school."
"You painted them," I repeated, looking back.
As I looked closer at the canvas, I realized why it was familiar. The sleeping man was our dear friend Antoni Zabrowska. I had mistaken his tattoos for shadows, though I had to admit I had never seen him look quite so relaxed. As I glanced around the room, I realized I recognized many of the paintings. I was able to pick out her father's face, Rossi's, and I realized the model for the two female nudes was none other than Nia Bianchi. There was one of a woman in white with bloody skeletal wings that bore a strong resemblance to Becca and I imagined that was the infamous ChaCha.
"That's what I go to Columbia for. Visual Arts."
"You're a goddamn genius, B."
She scoffed.
"No, I'm fucking serious, kid. My sister collects art, and she refuses to go for the big names. Shit like this, she pays 10 to 20 grand for a painting half this size, more if it's one of the artists she likes."
Now she snorted.
"What? Your sister got a money tree?"
"No, my older sister Aurie's a writer. She wrote her first book when she was ten. She's published 20 so far, but she's got 30 or 40 more in backlog that she's still tweaking. She's kind of a perfectionist when it comes to writing, but I guess it pays off. Her books sell like fucking hotcakes everytime she puts one out, two of her series got picked up by Netflix, and Lion's Gate turned her seventh book into a movie. She even got to be involved in the productions.
"She's got a penthouse on the Upper East Side that she bought about six years ago. That's where I lived when I got out of the Upstate. Aurora, she's a fucking Saint, you know. I mean, I had a shitty PO that was up my ass every five minutes but Aurie never said a word about it. She just… always told me she was glad I was home, which, you know, was nice to hear considering that according to my grandparents I died 19 years ago. She was the one that helped me get this place down here, paid in full for a two year lease."
Becca raised an eyebrow at me.
"No offense, Tony, I can tell you're crazy about her, but she couldn't have picked a better place for you than this hell hole?"
I laughed as softly as I could, to save the muscles in my stomach.
"I picked this place myself, B. Cheapest apartment I could find in any of the boroughs, and it even had three bedrooms. I was thinking about having space for a library and a home gym."
Becca snorted.
"Yeah, it's cheap cause the fucking place is about 90 years old. Nobody's been able to get a hold of the slumlord who owns it for repairs in 8 months, but I bet you the motherfucker still collects the rent checks we deposit in his fucking bank account every month."
"Yeah, I figured that out just about as soon as I moved in, but beggars can't be choosers. Besides, Antoni always used to help me out whenever something broke."
Becca gave a small smile.
"They did that for everybody. I used to call them the apartment elves, cause instead of making shoes they were skittering around fixing fucking toilets and sinks, and rewiring burned up outlets and bringing in new refrigerators and stoves when shit broke in everybody else's places. And they bought it all with their own money. Everybody tried to pay them, but they never took a dime for any of it. Ironically enough, Pops used to talk about Antoni all the time because of all the money he'd spend over there every week. Said he had a good heart, just no good sense when it came to what was his responsibility and wasn't. You know, I had my own opinions about Antoni's heart, but I kept them to myself."
"I really wish I had paid more attention when Antoni was working on the boiler, though. Instead of just passing him tools and running my mouth."
"Yeah, you're good at that," she replied with a smirk.
"And fuck you, too, Miss Rebecca. You might be the strong type, but you're not exactly silent yourself."
She laughed.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."
I nodded and obeyed as she exited into what I saw was the bathroom as she opened the door and closed it behind her.
The sectional was goddamned heaven, and she'd said make myself comfortable so I kicked out the recliner and leaned back. I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed, and when I opened them I nearly jumped out of my skin. I barely managed to stop myself from letting out a yell as I jerked back up to sitting.
Antoni's corpse was standing by the picture wall, looking intently at a photo of a child Becca wearing a ruffled, cream colored dress with a ribbon in her long black hair. It was the picture of her first Communion.
"Goddamn, you can't give somebody a warning before you do that?"
He neither answered me nor turned to look at me because he was using the stumps of his wrists to adjust several of the frames back straight again.
"Fucking neat freak," I laughed. "She wasn't lying."
He finally turned toward me.
You ever seen a corpse try to look annoyed when he's missing about a quarter of his face? I mean, what am I saying, you probably haven't, but suffice to say, it's pretty fucking funny. He raised his left wrist, and if he had hands, he'dve been shooting the bird.
Almost hysterical laughter burst out of me as Becca exited the bathroom.
"Least the pipes ain't frozen yet," she muttered.
She gave me a strange look.
"Who are you talking to out here? And what's so funny?"
I glanced back to Antoni, but he was gone again.
"Don't mind me, B, I'm pretty sure I got a concussion. I'm pretty much seeing pink elephants at this point." Or, you know, the mutilated corpse of my best friend, but it's probably best I leave it at elephants.
"Yeah," she answered, and crossed the room to hand me something. "Speaking of."
It was a mouth guard.
"What is this for?"
She didn't answer me, but headed to the kitchen and opened a cabinet, withdrawing a cut crystal scotch glass and then opening the refrigerator and withdrawing… two bags of blood. Nia's blood, to be exact. She unscrewed the cap at the bottom of one, punctured the seal with a fresh insulin needle, and to my supreme discomfort squeezed some into the glass. The mouth guard suddenly made sense. It was so I wouldn't break my teeth or bite my tongue off when the convulsions started and my jaw locked down from consuming demon blood.
"Oh no, B, I don't want that."
"Yeah. That's why I didn't tell you why I wanted you over here, cause I knew you was gonna be a pussy about it."
I tried one more last-ditch effort.
"You need that more than me, B."
"I can just take my next dose early, but you, you can't go down and see Ma looking like that. She's gonna ask too many questions."
That one stopped me.
"I've had enough of interrogations for one day, B."
"There ain't no interrogation when it comes to Ma. She just puts it in your head that you ain't got no choice but to tell her the truth, and you do. She's made state witnesses get up on the stand and confess their own crimes, pleading the fifth be damned."
She screwed the cap back onto the bag and carried them and the glass over to the coffee table and set them down. She walked over and opened a closet door, pulling out an IV pole with a little box attached to it, and grabbed a small cardboard box from off a shelf and what looked like a tackle box. She set it on the coffee table after she pulled the pole over to the sectional and plugged it into the wall, opened the cardboard box and removed a cassette from inside and inserted it into the box on the pole.
"What's that?"
"It's a blood warmer for rapid transfusions, so I don't go into hypothermia or hemolysis. Little bastard cost 137 thousand, but at least you can buy them online. You put a fresh cassette in every time, the blood runs through it, by the time it gets to my arm it's body temp."
She opened the tackle box and removed two fresh lines, attaching one to the bottom of the warmer and one to the top, hanging the bags of blood but not connecting the first of them yet. The top had a drip chamber with a filter, and the bottom held the flow regulator and the hypodermic needle with the cannula inside.
"You know, it's not fucking fair, B, you shouldn't have dealt with half the shit in your life that you have."
She snorted and her lips pursed with anger as she sat down beside me.
"You sound like Rossi with that shit. That's why he wouldn't let me die, said it wasn't fair. I was ready to go into hospice, fuck it, I was ready to see my Mom again. But I'll tell you the same thing I told his stupid old ass. Life ain't fair. Cause if it was I'd have my mother and my baby's father and Jimmy's ass would be the one laying in the morgue. You think it's fair you almost lost a finger because of what he ordered?"
I laughed.
"No, I actually think that's pretty fair. That's karma, B. I was usually the one doing the beating. How do you think I ended up in prison?"
She looked hard at me for a moment.
"I mean, you never told me. You were pretty open about having gone to prison, but you never said why."
"Well, I learned to be open about it. Some people get real upset when they find out they're dealing with someone who's been through the system, so I didn't really wanna go through that again. So now I just tell people up front, let them decide for themselves if they wanna deal with me or not. That way they can't throw it back in my face, say I lied to them."
Becca let out a bitter chuckle.
"So what's your story?"
"Well, we still ain't finished your story, yet, but we'll take a detour. The whole thing started my Senior year of high school. First game of the year, I blew my knee out, big as a bitch, tore everything there was to tear, shit was basically hanging on by the skin alone. Orthopedics said I had two choices, keep playing football or, retain the ability to walk on that leg, so… there went all my big dreams of college ball and making it onto the Giants."
I nodded. "Middle linebacker. I was good at it. 6'7, 265 pounds but light on my feet, all muscle. Back then I was running 7 percent body fat, and wasn't even trying. Shit just… all came natural to me. It all blew up in my face. Shitloads of surgery and physical therapy, and then one day the pain pills stopped but the pain didn't. Everyday, every night, I was still hurting."
She nodded.
"I know about bone pain. I could always tell when I needed to up the dose when my bones started hurting. When I started out all it took was an insulin needle. Now I take so much, I'm not even sure I qualify as human. But I guess I won't be much longer. That's always been the plan. Just keep me alive till 30 and Ma's gonna make me like her. That's the preferred age for the Entrance, something to do with the Trinity."
I nodded.
"I started asking around school if anyone knew where to get some Percs but pain management keeps that shit so tight I could only get a few at a time. Not only was they expensive, it wasn't enough. I got hooked up with this kid named Alessandro, he told me if I really wanted to control the pain, he could get me something better and cheaper. He took me to meet his uncle, Colombian guy named Marco. First shot is free and it was… it was beautiful. Everybody always gets sick the first time, but I didn't. And then after that, all my free money from my after school job started going to horse, and uh, I got my last six months off school. I already had all the credits I needed from AP classes, started working full time. They didn't piss test. But, my tolerance was rising faster than my income was."
I took a deep breath.
"I'd been buying enough that Marco was offering me fronts but I never took it. So next time I went, I asked him for my usual and I asked how much it would be for two O's on the front, cause I knew a lot of other users and I was thinking of starting to sell myself. So, he told me he'd give me a pound, and we could settle up at the end of the month."
"Jesus Christ, if you were selling a pound a month you must have been making bank."
I shook my head.
"I wasn't in it for the money. I was in it to keep myself supplied. If I kept my prices right, I could use for free, and I had enough left over to pay my portion of the rent and help pay for the groceries. I got good at it, I'd take a shot, and nod out for a few minutes, then get up and start walking the streets."
Becca snorted.
"You wasn't standing on a street corner?"
"Fuck no. Too visible. I did all my business by phone. I had a burner and gave everyone the number, and when they needed some they'd give me a call and I'd meet them or they'd meet me. I had ethics. I used to have people offering me fucking blowjobs for a bag, but I always said no, shit felt wrong. All they had to do was pay me by the end of the month but, sometimes…"
She gave a grin.
"But sometimes, 'Bitch, where's my money?'"
"Yeah, sometimes people would try to skip out, so I had to apply a little pressure to persuade them to pay. I never killed nobody, it's hard as hell to get money out of a dead man. But, black a few eyes and break a few bones and suddenly they had money they didn't before. Being my size, there wasn't many of them that could fight back. But, I fucked up the wrong lowlife.
"There was this prick, he'd been dodging me for weeks. He owed me like two grand, I'd given him that much because I knew he had money, so when I finally caught up to him, I was pretty mad and, the bitch, he told me he wasn't going to pay me. Thought he was better than me, thought he could fuck me and get away with it. So I beat the mortal hell out of him, took his wallet. He had five grand in there but I figured, 3K surcharge for wasting my time."
I shook my head.
"But I should have done some better research on who I was going after. Turned out the little prick had a socialite for a mother and his Daddy was a hedge fund manager and… I'd hurt him pretty bad. First three months, not only was I dealing with DTs, I was waiting to see if they were going to add Murder to my charges. He was in a coma for that long, and when he woke up, he had to learn to walk again, how to feed himself. I beat him so bad I gave him brain damage."
"Goddamn, Tony."
"Apparently his parents knew their son's habits and knew exactly who I was, cause they went straight to the police, and two days later SWAT showed up, turned the house upside down. I smashed my phone into pieces, flushed it so they couldn't get my contacts, but I didn't think about the fact I still had the wallet with his driver's license in it. My grandparents disowned me, right then and there. I had just reupped so they caught me with 14 ounces, all it takes is 8 for Class A felony possession. I spent 13 months in Rikers, but my sister got me a good lawyer, he knew the judge and the prosecutor personally, golfed with them, so he got me a plea deal. I was looking at life in prison, but he argued that I was a good student that had made a bad mistake because of a chronic pain issue, and they were both first offenses, so if I pled guilty, agreed to go through a substance abuse program and anger management, then they'd give me the minimum sentence.
"15 years, Class A Felony Drug Possession, 3 years, Class B felony First Degree Assault, intentionally causing grievous bodily harm while in the commission of another felony. But, at my sentencing, the judge said I was a big guy, with a big anger problem. I hadn't killed anyone, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Said I was a danger to society, so when I got to the UCF, they put me in dark red."
I nodded.
"23 hours a day in a box by myself, no visitors, barely saw the guards. But, I stayed quiet, made no problems. Prison was overcrowded so I ended up with a cellmate, and I was glad to see him. It could have been Hannibal Lecter and I would have gave him a hug. He might have been a murderer but he was actually a decent guy. Him and his crew had knocked over some jewelry stores in Manhattan, last job went bad. He'd killed three cops, so he wasn't never getting out. Neither was his wife. Life in Bedford Hills."
"That's where they was gonna send me if Ma hadn't got the jury to give me a Not Guilty verdict."
I knew Becca had a tendency to get in trouble because beside the cheerleading pictures in the bodega, there was also a mugshot.
"What did you do?"
She gave a bitter chuckle again.
"Unlike you, I killed someone. 2021, this fucking crackhead tried to rob the store. He shot the customer that was in there, old guy named Mickey, killed him. He used to live in your apartment. Tried to shoot me, too, but the gun jammed and I had the aluminum baseball bat under the counter. I just started swinging. He went down, but I jumped the counter, and hit him again. Blood lust is a real thing. Once I saw he was bleeding, I wanted to see more. I beat his brains out, literally, he was dead long before the cops ever got there. Bat looked like a toothpick when I was done.
"They arrested me, and the DA himself showed up at my arraignment. Said self defense didn't apply, sent me straight up to Murder 2, requested I be denied bail because I had a passport and plenty of money so I was a flight risk. But we all knew the truth. He was still pissed that he hadn't been able to send Rossi away for longer, and I was the next best thing. Ma had to pull a lot of strings to make sure I still got my transfusions when I was in lockup. I was in Rikers for four months, had my eighteenth birthday sitting in the Singer Unit."
"Goddamned patterns," I muttered, then raised my voice again. "You, me, and Antoni all got that in common, except he wasn't like us. He was already in prison. That's what the rose meant, turned eighteen in prison. Life sentence, triple murder."
"He told you that?" She looked betrayed, so I was quick to answer.
"No, the tattoos told me that. Google is my best friend, B. That's what the skull and crossbones, and the coffins on his arm meant."
She swallowed, and nodded again.
"But, I moved down," I continued. "Went to orange when they moved me to Gen Pop, and I had friends waiting for me. Marco was very appreciative of me keeping quiet about my source at trial, so outside Abuela Bogota's was where I hung out the most. But I had friends all over. My sister was smart. She always put way more in my account than I could spend, so whenever I heard that somebody needed something, I'd go to the canteen and buy it myself and pass it to 'em. Nobody had to owe me shit. All I wanted was to be left alone, so I had people watching my back from all sides. I ended up in blue, got moved to the dormitory, started working in the kitchen, ended up running it, cause I was a 'model prisoner.'"
"You ever fool around with any of your cellmates?" Becca asked with a grin. "Cause I did."
I gave an uncomfortable laugh.
"I mean, yeah. 15 years is a long time to be alone. I don't consider myself bisexual even, but if somebody offers, you know…" I shrugged.
"I think the word you're looking for is heteroflexible. That's how Antoni referred to himself. He had a thing for you, you know."
That stopped me dead.
"You're fucking with me, B."
"Nope. He asked me once if I'd mind if he ever got the chance to hook up with you, and I told him no, as long as he didn't mind I still hooked up with my old girlfriends from high school. But he never asked you, said he loved you too much, was afraid of ruining your friendship."
"Jesus Christ," I shook my head, finally decided I needed time to process that, and moved on. "But, my last year there, Covid hit, and, I volunteered to work in the infirmary, but pretty soon the infirmary was filled, they started keeping people in the hallway, and finally they just ended up leaving them in their beds, I was all over the place. People dropping like flies. Everytime someone coughed or sneezed, everbody'd get nervous. I been smoking since I was 16, so I cough my lungs out every morning.
"People was looking at me like I was Death Incarnate. But I never caught it, not even once. And I was all around the sick, I was taking the bodies out to the truck outside the gate. Could've run but I didn't. Only had a few years left. It worked in my favor. They cut the last three years off my sentence, put me on supervised release and now, here I am, 36 years old, and just starting my adult life."
"Rossi got let out of lockup right before lockdown, poor bastard. Me, him, and my Dad all quarantined at Ma's, but of course, you know, me and Dad was essential workers so at least I got to get out of the house everyday. I graduated early, at 16, been working seven days a week since."
I glanced at the glass on the table.
"So let's get back to your story."
She shook her head, lips pursed again.
"Uh-uh, you're not wasting anymore time. Take the blood, but first," she reached out, quicker than I could even register, and used her thumbs to set my broken nose back straight.
I let out a yell, momentarily unable to see as my eyes filled with tears.
"Jesus wept, Becca, fucking hell, goddamn."
"Sorry. It would've hurt more if you'd known it was coming. Besides, you're a good looking guy, Tony, you don't wanna ruin your face."
"Thanks, B," I muttered as I pressed the toilet paper back to my freshly bleeding nose, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Need a haircut though."
"Nah, you oughta keep it. It's very The Dark Knight Joker, just black, not blonde and green."
I laughed quietly.
"Not sure that's the best association, B. A little too psychotic and violent."
She raised an eyebrow at me.
"Alright, alright. It's probably an accurate association, just a little less arson and murder." I sighed and looked at the scotch glass. "So how do I do this, B?"
"Think about it like a tequila shot. Take the shot and then slip the guard in quick. Then sit back, try to relax."
I nodded and grabbed the glass before I lost my nerve. I raised it in her direction.
"Geonbae." She responded.
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2023.05.29 16:31 SleeplessFromSundown The Séance Club - The End of Windhaven Manor [Final]

This post is the final part of this story. Sorry it has taken so long to get through. And I'm not sure I even understand all of it yet. If you're new, this all started here. The previous part (Part 7) is here. Thank you to everyone who followed along.
“Do you see her?” I asked in a meek voice.
“You mean that girl in black?” Harvey answered.
It was her, in the flesh. Her lips parted and formed a malevolent smile. Her dark eyes fixed on mine. My legs turned to solid lead. My feet refused to move. The anxiousness to reach Parker and Juliet and Beth in the cellar crumbled like the wood turning to ash behind us. She demanded my attention.
A hand rocked my shoulder. Harvey. I pushed him away.
“You have to go. Help them. I’ll take care of her.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
A mirage of Harvey flitted past Ally and disappeared into the kitchen. Everything blurred, everything but her.
She tilted her head to one side and bridged the gap between us with four slow and deliberate steps. She pushed her right hand out from a long sleeve and ran the black painted nail of her index finger across my cheek, the smooth lacquer cold against my skin. I shuddered as the chill spread like ice creeping up a window.
“It is such a shame to be losing you so soon. We’ve only just met, and yet I feel like we’ve known each other our whole lives. Do you feel it too?”
I shook my head. “Let me go.”
“We’re past that now Sam. I considered if we could coexist, you and I. It gave me a thrill knowing there is another one out there like me. But you insist on meddling with my work.”
“You mean locking all those girls in that filthy dungeon where they met their end? And Jane here.”
“The work is sometimes unpleasant.”
“But the pay is good?”
“This isn’t about money Sam. You and I are the same. The pain you felt from not fitting in. The lonely nights lying awake, wishing you could be like everyone else. The stares and the whispers. The rejection from those who are supposed to love us the most. I too know. But where you hid, I searched out a path where my talents were appreciated and rewarded. You don’t hate me Sam. You hate yourself for not thriving like I have.”
“Thriving? Is that what you call it?”
“By all measures yes. I am good at what I do. The best. The only. Or so I thought. And then there is you. A naïve, sheltered little boy who can barely put on his own pants in the morning. It is such a shame. And these so-called friends of yours, that was always doomed to failure. Oh and if you harbour any thoughts of them escaping, know that we blocked the little secret entrance the stable boy showed you. There’s no escape except through the fire. When they pick through the ashes of this building they will find their bones, and yours. Is this how you imagined it turning out?”
I flexed the muscles in my legs, but they refused to move. Ally smiled.
“It’s useless now Sam.”
I heard the faint whisper of Juliet’s voice in my head. She pleaded with me. Come on Sam, you can do this. I remembered the last encounter with Ally, outside the wall separating Windhaven Manor from the world. Ally had put me in the white room. I had broken free. I had overcome her power once. I had to do it again.
I took a deep breath in through my nose and cried out and willed my feet to move. Electricity coursed through my body and I directed it down to the floor. My left heel separated from the floor and that set the whole thing in motion. The dam burst. I lurched forwards and overbalanced and sprawled to the floor.
Ally crouched beside me and chuckled. “Some would call it a tragedy for a child to die so soon after learning to walk.”
I looked back towards the front of the house. The fire burned hot. Thick black smoke circled up the huge open space of the gallery. Portraits hanging on the wall bubbled and curled as flames consumed them.
A figure appeared at the foot of the staircase. The spectre of Crown. The goons had dragged his lifeless corpse out of the house, but stood before me was the spirit with unfinished business. The ugliness of his actions showed through now in death. His skin was sallow and wrinkled. His head too big for his body and his teeth yellowed. A grotesque monster made worse by his mortal demise.
Ally whispered in my ear. “He knows it was your meddling that brought about his end. I’ll leave you two alone.”
She brushed my cheek with the back of her hand and stood. As she walked away leather straps materialised out of thin air and pinned my body to the floor.
The spectre of Crown grew before me, swelling in size until he had to crouch to stay below the chandelier. He clenched his fists and with burning red eyes let out a guttural growl that skipped my ears and penetrated directly into my skull.
I tried to pull my hands to my ears but they would not come. It made no difference. The roar coming from Crown stabbed the inside of my head like a thousand daggers. I lifted my head and the growl grew to a scream that ricocheted around the inside of my skull. I couldn’t take much more. It felt as though my head would explode.
Guilt bubbled up and mingled with the fear and I shrank into the floor and wished for it to swallow me. They were down there, the only friends I had known, banging against a locked door denying their escape. I sobbed. I sobbed like I had the night my parents turned from me.
In the pit of my stomach something else grew. A seed of frustration born of a lifetime existing in a world that didn’t make sense. A world where I had no idea who I was and what I could or should do. A world in which I hid. I couldn’t do that now.
Juliet’s voice as clear as day, cutting through the racket of Crown’s scream. Do it Sam. I gritted my teeth and electricity buzzed somewhere deep inside, at first dull and imperceptible, and then amplified and resonating until it peaked into a deafening roar.
Above Crown the bulbs in the chandelier glowed white. He swivelled his head and watched them dumbly.
I concentrated, felt the energy forming an extra limb. Like the arms and legs of a newborn it flailed spasmodically. I fought to control it, to turn it to my will. I focussed on the straps pinning me to the floor. The electricity fed into the straps and turned them hot. For a moment I feared they would scold my skin, and then in a moment of release they split and flung upwards.
I picked myself up off the floor and faced the spectre of Crown. Like a spent boxer throwing one final punch I threw out my hands and screamed, willing Crown to be quiet and be still. Demanding he be so.
The floor shook. The dozens of bulbs in the chandelier shattered. The giant spectre of Crown diminished and the screaming inside my head softened until it was no more. Crown’s eyes opened wide as his mouth stitched together and his arms wrenched behind his back. I flicked my hand like I was swatting a fly and Crown flew into the corner of the room and slumped to the floor.
I bent over and rested my hands on my knees. My muscles ached, like I had run a marathon. Shadows played on the floor. I sucked in air and smoke and spluttered and coughed.
In the hallway the silhouette of Ally. She turned and shook her head. The heat of the fire intensified and crackled at my skin. If we were to make our escape, she could not be here to block us. I straightened and strode towards her.
I cycled furiously through the events of the last few days, searching for something to defeat Ally. I had to do to her what she had done to me. The time for running and breaking her spells was through.
I closed my eyes and concentrated. I stripped away everything except for the two of us. The crackle of the fire replaced with silence. The smell of the smoke disappeared. The heat washed away. One by one I shut down all my senses. When I opened my eyes a monotone room of white. Sterile calm had replaced the burning insides of Windhaven Manor.
Her eyes scanned the room and she giggled. “Cheap tricks won’t get you far,” she said. “And you learned this one from me.”
The white rippled as if the walls were made of water. She was fighting it. I concentrated, focussing all my energy, all my will. The ripples slowed and then stopped.
“You’re a fast learner,” she said. “But I have been doing this for more than a weekend.”
Strips of colour permeated the white. A rectangle of tile appeared on the floor. And then some blue from the curtain. Enough of a smouldering wall to let in some smoke. The acrid smell reached my nose and I spluttered. As each wedge of colour appeared, I filled it back in white. But it was a sinking ship and the pail I held to bail out the water would not be enough.
Ally grunted under her breath. A grunt of frustration. The white room shook and made a sound like a train bearing down.
I had to bind her. I raised my palm and coils of rope rose from the ground and oscillated like snakes around her. She swatted them away and wrenched them from the ground and flung them at my feet, limp and unmoving.
“It won’t be that easy,” she sneered.
My arms jerked behind my back. She bound my wrists and then my ankles. She pursed her lips and blew as if extinguishing a single candle on a birthday cake, and it was enough to send me to the floor. I couldn’t do this on my own. I needed help.
I shut my eyes and concentrated my energy not on my bindings, but on the woods at the back of Windhaven Manor. On the girls who escaped the dungeon and now roamed the forest, watching the house burn from behind the barrier Ally constructed.
I fed the energy coursing through my body into the giant snowdome structure until it burned hot and then like the globes in the chandelier, it cracked and exploded into the night sky. The spirits of the girls watched the shards disappear and then strode towards the Manor.
I turned my attention to the tiny room beside the pantry, where Jane Laughlin lay bound to the bed. I stood beside her and lay my hand on the shackles binding her to the bed. She shuddered as the mask came free from her mouth and then stood as the shackles broke.
I opened my eyes and the white of the room flickered off and then back on again like bad reception on a television. I had to keep the white walls up long enough for them to draw near. For them to be ready when the façade fell. Ally strode towards me, exuding confidence.
“You can’t beat me Sam.”
Ally squeezed her hands into fists and screamed. In a burst of energy she wiped the white room clear and we were back in the burning house. The air was thick with smoke. Behind me a timber beam tumbled from the ceiling and crashed to the floor. The heat and smoke sucked the moisture from my insides and I heaved out a series of coughs.
Ally opened her eyes and smiled. She had bested me. But then they came. The girls from the dungeon and Jane Laughlin surrounded her. The sum total off all the pain and hurt inflicted in this place. Everything Ally had worked to keep hidden from the world.
They lurched at Ally. She raised her hands and pushed them back one by one as they went for her. She spun on the spot, trying to keep them at bay. She could not hold them all back. The sheer weight of numbers overwhelmed. They leaned in and pushed their heads into hers and showed her what those men had done. Made her feel it. The fear and despair and anger of each individual stacked together and Ally crumpled to the floor holding her head.
“Make it stop,” she said.
They kept at her.
Jane Laughlin sidled over to the base of the stairs where Crown sat, bound and with his mouth stitched. She considered him, restrained and helpless on the floor as she had been. He fought with his restraints, and then whimpered, as she had. As I ran for the pantry and the wine cellar, the corridor filled with the muffled sound of his screams.
The door to the cellar stood open and I made the descent of the stairs in three leaps. The enclosed space already full with smoke. At the end of the long corridor leading outside, Parker and Harvey shouldered the door. Juliet and Beth screamed encouragement. The door would not budge.
“We can’t go that way,” I yelled.
They raced back up the long corridor. A sudden rush of emotion bubbled up to the surface. I was so happy to see them all still alive. My lower jaw rattled and my hands shook. I fought to hide it.
Beth reached me first. “Sam, you’re ok.”
I blubbered a response and took in a lung full of smoke. We had to get out.
The fire raged outside the kitchen door. A wave of flame climbed up and spread across the ceiling. A subtle cracking sound from above intensified and a chunk of the upstairs floor came crashing down through the ceiling, blocking the rear door. We couldn’t get out the back. The only way now was back through the house. A ball of flame whooshed through the doorway and I put my arm up too late, my eyebrows wilting in the heat.
We crouched together in the middle of the kitchen, lowering our heads to get the last of the remaining oxygen. Malicious red flames and choking black smoke surrounded us on all sides.
“Where do we go now?” Parker’s words came out between coughs. Tears streaked down his cheeks. Soot covered his brow. I wished I had an answer.
Then he was there, standing over Parker’s shoulder. Leon. With the protective bubble gone, he too was free to come in the Manor.
“The fire has not yet consumed the dining room. But you don’t have long.”
I looked vaguely in the direction of the kitchen door and blinked back the stinging from the smoke. “I don’t think we can find it in this.”
“Follow me.”
I pulled my shirt up over my head. “We have to go. The dining room, we can make it. All together on three.”
I shouted out the numbers, the sound drowned out by the roar of the fire. I grabbed Beth’s hand and yanked her into action. Leon led the way and I kept my eyes on his heels. Together we were a flurry of arms and legs bounding for the dining room. I gritted my teeth against the heat. We burst through the doorway and everything turned orange.
From below the sweater pulled tight down over my hair, I shot a glance over to the floor of the grand gallery where I had left Ally writhing on the floor. She was not there now. Nor were the spectres of the girls.
I followed Leon’s heels into the dining room. The great wooden table smouldered in the centre of the room. Brilliant orange flames consumed the thick curtains. Parker spotted his camera still atop the tripod and set to pulling the camera free before Harvey grabbed his arm and yelled something that sounded like ‘leave it’.
Harvey grabbed one of the heavy chairs with their high backs and velvet cushions and heaved it at the window in the back corner of the room. The chair disappeared into the darkness of the night and Harvey kicked at the glass shards left behind. Parker joined. We piled out the opening.
I drank in the fresh cool air of night, staggering over the narrow path beside the house and to the small strip of grass beyond. Parker collapsed beside me and pulled the laptop out from under his shirt. He tapped at the casing and for a moment a brief smile flashed across his face, but it did not last long. He wiped soot and sweat from his face with shaking hands.
Harvey checked us all in turn, like a parent fussing over their children. We had scrapes and bruises and our skin was red and raw, but we were alright. We had survived. He ran to the front of the house and came back with palms held out by his sides. The man in the black suit, the goons Ponytail and Beanie, and Ally were all gone, along with the black van and the BMW.
Huddled together, we watched the fire consume Windhaven Manor, bright reds and oranges lighting up the windows and thick black smoke tumbling into the purple haze of sky. It was almost morning, the horizon signalling the coming of the sun.
Leon stood apart on the grass. I went to him.
“Thank you for coming back for us.”
He shrugged. “It’s something. It isn’t enough to make up for the rest.”
“You saved our lives. And those girls, they had their chance to meet their tormentors. That’s something too.”
He nodded. “What happens now?”
I turned my head sideways. “I’m still learning how all this works.”
The red of the fire reflected in his eyes. “Me too. I might go for a walk in the woods. I always liked it out there.”
He glided across the lawn and entered the trees and was gone.
The sound of sirens fought with the crackle of the fire. The fire brigade and the police. I got to my feet and shuffled to the front of the Manor. The burnt out carcasses of our cars stood by the low height wall. Black soot smudged the stone façade above the windows and the doors.
By the oak tree on the ocean side of the house stood Jane Laughlin. She peered down into a hole dug at the base of the tree. A pale and withered hand poked up out of the dirt. Her hand. They had meant to remove the body, but had aborted the task and fled.
A fire truck appeared at the head of the driveway and then another. They sped down the gravel and came to a sliding stop. A lone police car followed. Harvey sidled over.
Jane looked to the horizon. Out on the cliff edge stood a figure in a red dress. She recognised her sister Kylie immediately and ran down the slope. The two sisters embraced in the first light of the sun. I turned to the whoosh of water through a hose from the fire trucks and when I turned back, the Laughlin sisters were gone.
The members of The Séance Club, which I now consider myself a part, sat together on the low-height stone wall as the firefighters extinguished the flames consuming Windhaven Manor. The house was quiet now. The nausea and vibration I had felt that first night replaced with calm.
The police stripped the compound clean for the best part of a week. They identified Kyle the sketch artist and Hugo from the teeth that survived the fire of the hovel built over the dungeon. Hugo’s wife lay on the back lawn where Beanie and Ponytail had left her. But as to specific evidence of the crimes that occurred, they could not find enough to put a case together.
The two fires and the disappearance of Crown made some headlines, but there wasn’t enough to hang anyone else. The police claimed publicly that there was no link between the fire at Windhaven Manor and the fire at the squalid residence over the back fence. At Harvey’s behest they searched the area with cadaver dogs for the remains of the girls, but they found nothing.
Parker turned his laptop over to the police. They identified the two goons, Ponytail and Beanie, low level thugs who had disappeared from the streets years earlier. Those in the know presumed them dead. It made tracing them almost impossible. Tracing their vehicles lead to a dead end.
The man in black the suit on the other hand might as well be a ghost. On him they found nothing. They have a face, but nothing else.
As for Ally, the girl somehow managed to always turn her face away from the cameras, as if she knew where they were.
I sat in a small room at the police station for three days with Harvey putting the pieces together. He showed me a photograph of an old and gaunt man with a bent back, the last owner of Windhaven Manor before it was sold after his death. He had to be the man with the bent back from the ceremony in the dungeon, but I could not be certain. I never saw his face. Of the faces I did see, we knew Crown and Kyle and Hugo, but the others were harder to pinpoint.
At the end of it all Harvey sighed. There was nothing more we could do. But we could rest on the knowledge that the key players in the ceremony were all now dead.
Questions nagged at me. Where was Ally and what was she doing? Would she try to find me? Who was she working for?
That was the biggest question of all. Who was at the top and pulling the strings? Harvey wasn’t giving up. He was a dog with a bone at the best of times, and now he had a taste of blood. He refused to go back to the police even after Crown’s departure, which he described as the removal of a cancerous limb.
Harvey called me after the dust settled on everything. I told him that the trail had gone cold and I had no idea where Ally was. For all I knew she had evaporated into thin air. Harvey thought it unlikely, and I agreed. He told me it was time for some old-fashioned detective work. The names of the goons would be a start.
And there was something else Harvey mentioned, something that I had almost forgotten. He had always believed that his investigation into the disappearance of the girls was the reason one of his colleagues was murdered. Crown confirmed as much in the bedroom right before he was shot. Harvey thinks there is something to it. Another thread to pull, and he has a hunch. For now he’s keeping his cards close to his chest until he has some proof. I almost pressed him on the issue but decided I’d rather put it all behind me.
The story made headlines in the local press for a while, but ultimately it fizzled into a non-story, quickly forgotten by a public with a short attention spans. We all waited for a reckoning from within the police ranks, but it never came. Harvey predicted that’s the way it would go, and he was proven right.
The one item they did recover was a gold necklace with a heart pendant. The necklace Jane Laughlin wore the night of her death. The police found it where the black van had parked. After a few days in the possession of the police, Harvey arranged to have the necklace released to the family of its former owner.
The following day Mr. and Mrs. Laughlin appeared on the local news, thanking the efforts of those who recovered the remains of their daughter. It was closure, though not the kind they had hoped for. Both their girls were dead.
A week later The Séance Club convened in Beth’s apartment. Parker and Juliet were already there when I arrived. It was cathartic to talk about the events at Windhaven Manor, to compare stories and scars. I guess that’s why they have the saying about a problem shared.
After a brief silence, Beth asked, “Are you going to talk to the parents of Jane and Kylie?”
I shook my head. “What will I tell them?”
“That their daughters found each other out by the cliff edge.”
“And what about the agony of their deaths? Should I tell them that too? Besides, it doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right to me yet. And what weight do my words hold over those of some Priest talking about how he knows their souls are at rest.”
“Because you really do know.”
I shrugged. “I can’t prove any of it.”
Truth was I had no idea how to integrate the things I could see and do into my life. From childhood all I had wanted was to be like everyone else. For people not to stare or whisper as I walked by. To find acceptance. Sitting with my three new friends at Beth’s tiny kitchen table, with our shared experience behind us, I finally had it. This could be the start of something.
Parker was already planning the next Séance Club trip. An abandoned farm up north with mysterious sightings going back centuries. Juliet was already on board. I told them to wait. I couldn’t jump back in right away.
I was the last to leave, Beth and I sipping mug after mug of coffee and sharing comfortable silence. When I sighed and told her I should go, she grabbed my arm.
“I’ve never had a real family, and then I found Juliet and Parker. The Séance Club became my family. Whatever happens we are there for each other. And we mean it when we say we want you to join.”
I thought about that all night, unable to sleep.
The next morning I called Parker.
An abandoned farm up north you say?
* * * *
I navigated to the narrow alley and checked the time. The Exchange should be open. It looked out of context in the Saturday morning light. No bright light spilling from the window. No surge of Friday night after work traffic.
I slipped in the front door. A lone man lifted upturned stools down from the bar. He had his back to me and I crept across the hardwood floor in the direction of the stairs down and the bathrooms.
The vibration swelled in my chest, but I did not fear it. A dull pain rose in the base of my skull, but I gritted my teeth. A man wearing a pair of rough leather shoes came from the other end of the corridor and stopped before me.
“Are you here to help?”
I nodded.
submitted by SleeplessFromSundown to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 16:28 shiinn814 Curly Hair Salons

Naa ba moy nahibaw-an salons nga kaybaw mu-handle ug curly hair?
Everytime magpa cut kos akong buhok sa mga salons kay bas-on jud man gud nila and sudlayon akong hair , then igka uga...bati tan awn. 5 yrs nakong ga DIY ug putol sa akong buhok, learned from YT. Oks raman sad nuon, wapakoy haircut fail so far pero now, looking for salons kay naa koy hairstyle na ganahan i-achieve hehe.
submitted by shiinn814 to Cebu [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 16:23 AlBasel1 Fanola No Orange Shampoo & Mask 350ML

Fanola No Orange Shampoo & Mask 350ML
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Fanola No Orange Shampoo & Mask 350ML
submitted by AlBasel1 to u/AlBasel1 [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 15:52 sheepster_full In S4E2, Sally says to Barry...

"I feel safe with you."
My question is this: Does she still feel safe with him in the finale?
I loved the timeskip in the finale (let's just say its another 8 years, John is in HS) and how it showed how much Sally has grown and how she hasn't. She effortlessly turned down her colleague's advances. He even seemed like a decent enough guy, but you could tell she was not at all comfortable and wanted nothing to do with him. I liked how he had salt and pepper hair too, just like the man Sally killed that haunted her all season.
Her following interaction with John still shows she craves that kind of validation. She didn't say 'I love you back' and instead asks for praise on her work. At least she's choosy about who she gets her male validation from! Baby steps is still growth.
I've seen some discussion of her car ride home, some people thinking she's missing Barry. This, coupled with John's seeming sense of pride in his father after watching the movie, seems to give some credence that Barry 'won' in the end, or is in a sense redeemed. Personally, I don't see Sally missing Barry at all in her new life, just like how she completely separated from her last abusive partner Sam. The shot of her looking at her flowers read to me as pride in her work, if anything.
However, this morning I thought of that moment when Sally visits Barry in jail, and says this rather haunting line. If what Sally says to Barry remains true throughout the whole season, timeskips and all, I think it puts her car ride home scene in a new light.
What are your thoughts? Do you think, in some horrible way, that Sally still only feels safe with Barry, even after 16 years?
submitted by sheepster_full to Barry [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 15:45 Riccikapricci Nearest Best Hair Cut Salon

Nearest Best Hair Cut Salon - Finding the nearest and best hair cut salon can be a challenge, but there are a few things you can do to ensure that you get the best possible experience. Start by asking your friends and family for recommendations. They will be able to recommend a salon that they have personally used and had a good experience with. If you're new to the area, you can always do a quick Google search for hair salons in your area and read reviews from previous customers. Look for a salon that has experienced, professional and friendly stylists who can help you achieve the look you desire. When you go in for your appointment, make sure you communicate your needs and desires clearly with your stylist. They should be able to give you professional advice on what style would suit you best while also taking into account your personal preferences. Lastly, make sure that the salon is clean and hygienic, with proper sanitation procedures in place. With these tips in mind, you can find the nearest best hair cut salon to give you the perfect haircut.
submitted by Riccikapricci to u/Riccikapricci [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 15:09 Beginning-Bus2812 Salon for very progessed thining hair for women?

Hi just wondering if anyone knows a salon or hairdresser which specializes in working with women who have extreme thinning. Thank you
submitted by Beginning-Bus2812 to askTO [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 15:07 stimulatingwhat Hi Helen hope you like the UK

Ha ha ha ha ha...
That Ain't all Sam will do for YOU, eh?
I bet you're wandering around all wonder-eyed in that pathetic "innocent" way of yours.
Bet you acting like you own the place like you do everywhere.
It's your ancestry, ergo it's your god-given right to be there.
Remember when you wanted to take me to Scotland?
I guess Sir Lord Bullshit needs to get in touch with his glorious "ancestry".
Including the 800 -year struggle to be equal to a half-trying moron like you.
Why not, you steal fucking everything why not take the motherfucking throne too.
I bet you're over there thinking you motherfucking belong or even understand the place.
Remember who put you there.
You won't.
You think you fucking deserve it.
What's it like being free and everything you touch turns to people thinking you're hot shit?
Why not you colonizing jerk. You and your wife with her beautiful blonde English hair.
May as well get what you've been entitled to.
Hope your trip helps you with your massive inferiority complex!
If I am going to die here at least I got you to move like a motherfucking bitch.
Thanks for the entertainment.
I know I'll never see England again.
P.s. lots of reggae your favorite music there and why not everyone fucking loves you.
submitted by stimulatingwhat to UnsentLetters [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 14:43 sunnydaysforlife My husband said I’ve let myself go (but I haven’t)

Hello. Today my (F28) husband (M41) told me I've let myself go. Naturally, I asked for an example, but he couldn't provide one. We've been not so happily married for 2.5 years and known each other for 3.5 years. My appearance has remained consistent. He actually compared some older photos of mine from about 6-8 months ago to my current look. I genuinely don't understand how I could have let myself go when I've been investing in my appearance more than before. I get my hair done professionally (highlights, keratin treatment etc.), nails always done professionally in expensive salon. Clothes always trendy, clean. I'm naturally quite skinny (I was too skinny 8 months ago which drew attention from friends and family, but I've since gained weight to achieve a slender, healthy look). I get waxing done regularly by professional beautician. I make sure to shower regularly and smell pleasant. However, I don’t wear much makeup, only applying a touch when i go out. My husband wants me to change my hair colour from brunette to blonde. I don’t mind it but I like my brown hair colour at the moment. All in all, I haven’t changed significantly and started investing a little more in my appearance. Could it be possible that my husband is projecting his own insecurities onto me? Maybe he’s getting old and sad and dissatisfied with him. Lol (I might not be able to respond to each comment individually but I'll read them all.)
submitted by sunnydaysforlife to Vent [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 14:04 nosubstantialpast What to ask my stylist for

What to ask my stylist for
I want to go auburn/red, but I'm not sure what to ask my salon for. Ideally I want it to look like it could possibly be my natural color (colored to the root with I'm assuming permanent dye, but maybe they would bleach it and just tone it?). However, my hair also grows fast enough that roots will show rather quickly so I'm wondering if I'd be better having the red fade into my natural hair color so I can get more longevity out of it between visits. Would the latter be more of a balayage? Do I ask for a root smudge/shadow?
It seems more cost effective to get the roots touched up, but I've never had my hair completely dyed, let alone professionally so I'm not really sure.
I'm aiming more for the first two photos as opposed to the third, but willing to compromise if need be.
submitted by nosubstantialpast to HairDye [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 13:52 orphicsalonjabalpur Orphic International Unisex Salon Best Salon For Male & Female

Our best unisex salon in jabalpur offers affordable and accessible hair care and Beauty Care services, We create unique and personalized looks for every client

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submitted by orphicsalonjabalpur to u/orphicsalonjabalpur [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 13:11 EneblurConsulting1 Case Study for GMB - How Google My Business Helped to a Set Salon Business

Case Study for GMB - How Google My Business Helped to a Set Salon Business
Google Business Profile (GMB) Background
Ms. Heena M is an enthusiastic beautician providing beauty treatments, such as treating skin, doing nails, styling hair, and putting on makeup. She decided to have her own business and also had a dedicated team of her employees. She opened a local store named Silver 9, The Family Salon, and initially, there were few visitors as her business got visibility only by the audience visiting the street.
Business Goal –
The goal was simple, to get more visibility, increase reach and get higher leads to her business. Google business profile helps to showcase local businesses to its audience based on relevant keywords and location searching for a specific business or service.
Our Approach –
Ms. Heena approached Eneblur Consulting and got her business profile created and listed on Google by providing an accurate address, opening hours, and uploading of business images regularly.
Results –
With the increase in Google ranking, Silver 9 Salon is attracting local customers and growing its business more than ever. We created the profile in mid-November 2022, the GMB profile was new, and visibility was low. There was an improvement in the number of leads in December 2022. The profile has 66 reviews with ratings of 4.9. The below image shows the insights for the number of calls received for December 2022.
Silver 9 Salon has received an average of 100 customers via direct calls, 192 business profile interactions, and 82 customers opting to visit the store.
How Eneblur Consulting Helped in this Process
Eneblur Consulting is a Digital Marketing and Web Development Company in Hubli, providing Google business profile services for local businesses and helping to shape and build their online presence. We started our work on Silver 9 Salon by creating to managing the profile and executing the tasks required for digital branding. We made keyword-rich content, optimized and provided updated information about the products and services available at Silver 9 Salon, utilized the insights provided by Google, and encouraged users to take action.
We have worked digitally for several small businesses to build a local customer base. As there is a saying, “Great Power, Comes with Great Responsibilities” Google Business Profile or so-called Google My Business (GMB) is a powerful tool that needs to be accessed responsibly. For more details, contact +91 7686006867.
submitted by EneblurConsulting1 to u/EneblurConsulting1 [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 12:53 YumaAsamiNYM86 Doris Day starring in an ad from 1949 that had her endorsing a "De Luxe Series 56 Roller Compactor"

Doris Day starring in an ad from 1949 that had her endorsing a submitted by YumaAsamiNYM86 to VintageWomenAds [link] [comments]

2023.05.29 12:44 Lynn_Ji 나에게 행운을 빕니다 !!! 🫠

Since everyone is either busy or currently saving an amount and pass daw muna silang lahat, I'm gonna go to the salon instead. Kawawa naman yung hair kong self-trimmed lang potek hahahaha. Time to have those long, mermaid curls.
submitted by Lynn_Ji to u/Lynn_Ji [link] [comments]