Pam had been overseeing renovations to their new home for several months now, and everything was just about coming together. There were a few things left to tweak, but overall their home was everything she wanted.
The first priority had been to install automatic and manual shutters so that all the windows and doors could be covered to make the house light-tight. If their requests seemed unusual, no one had commented. With enough money people tended to look the other way.
Therefore they had been able to live in the home while most of the renovations were being done. Pam had been ecstatic to be out of the video store basement partly because it was uncomfortable and partly because she hated that place and didn't want to spend one more moment than necessary there.
As the renovations came nearly to a close, Pam decided that a trip to the spa would be a nice reward for all of her work. Eric had scoffed at her, pointing out that others had done all of the manual labor, but he didn't realize how much work actually went into decorating and overseeing the morons as they hacked into and rebuilt pieces of their home.
So that was how Pam found herself in one of Shreveport's many (few) salons and spas. She could do the work herself if she needed to, but sometimes it was nice to lay back and let someone else touch you up. She made a special appointment at night to accommodate her need for darkness and began her transformation.
They started with her nails, which turned out beautifully. The color was nice and they were shiny enough for her taste. They next laid her on a table and she was given a wonderful massage, complete with nice smelling oils and an attractive female masseuse.
"Would you like to get your hair done, Miss?" the hair stylist asked.
Pam thought for a moment. It had been a while since she'd had it done and she was already here.
"Fine," Pam said and they led her over to a chair seated in front of one of the large mirrors.
"What would you like done?" the woman asked in a polite tone.
Pam normally took to the fashions of the decade, whether she thought they were ridiculous or not. The 80s were not turning out to be her favorite decade by any means, but she had teased her hair and curled it a few times to fit with the look. A perm might be a nice half step, although she definitely did not want her hair to be a crazy tangled mess as most people were sporting these days.
"A perm," she decided. The woman nodded and Pam held up her hand in warning. "But I do not want it to be a huge rat's nest. When I say perm I mean I want some large curls. Kind of some waves, really. Do you understand?" she asked, her voice taking on a Southern drawl against her will.
"Absolutely," the woman told her decisively. "It will look gorgeous in your hair. Is this your natural color?"
"Almost. Mines a little more golden of a blonde," she said with a bit of pride. Hair coloring was so easy nowadays with the different dyes available, but when she had been human it had been an entirely different story. Hair as blonde as hers had been something to be proud of 75, 100 years ago, but now any bimbo could walk into a store and get whatever cheap product she wanted. Part of her was irritated that it was so easy to achieve now and part of her just had to shake her head in shame as people did such shit jobs on their hair. If you're going to do it, do it right.
They continued conversing a bit as the hairdresser got her station prepared, Pam not nearly as annoyed with this human as she was with most. At least the girl was pretty and had some fashion sense.
The girl, whose name turned out to be Lisa, continued on with her work as Pam drifted into a state of contentment. It was nice to be pampered; she would have to do this more often.
Soon enough Lisa told her to wait a bit as the perm worked its "magic." Shortly after that she was being rinsed and blow dried. Pam read a magazine, beginning to grow bored with the process.
"Oh my," Lisa said, sounding a bit worried.
Pam looked up, not happy to hear that tone from someone who had the life of her hair in her hands.
"What?" Pam demanded. "What's wrong?"
"I- I'm not sure," Lisa said in confusion. She had a comb in her hands and was looking down at Pam's damp hair worriedly. "It's just… so tangled. I've never had this happen before."
"Let me see," Pam snarled, stepping out of the chair and dragging her hair over her shoulder to get a better look. She gasped in horror. "What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Lisa said.
"Look. At. My. Hair." She pointed to the mess that was her hair. She snatched the comb from the girl's hand and began to gently try to detangle her hair. It was hopelessly knotted and she soon started to panic.
"This is so unusual," Lisa said. "This has never happened to anyone's client before. Let me get my manager," she rushed.
Pam waved her off as she continued to try to think of a solution. Some conditioner may help, she thought, and then maybe she could let it air dry to see exactly what she was dealing with. But her hair seemed so wiry that she wasn't sure if it was salvageable.
"Karen told me I was fine to do perms," Lisa whispered in the back.
"I didn't tell you that you could!" another woman responded heatedly. "You aren't ready and you don't have the proper training!"
Pam's vampire hearing picked up on the exchange, despite the fact it was clearly not meant for her ears. A few moments later a fat woman with frizzy hair came out of the back.
"Hi," she said to Pam sweetly. "I'm Cindy. I'm so sorry about this. Could I take a look? I'm sure we can fix this."
"You let this hack do hair when she's not even trained?" Pam asked angrily. She had trusted her hair to this woman! She couldn't think of anything more sacred.
The other women exchanged a worried glance.
"All of our technicians are thoroughly trained," Cindy said, covering for her employee. "What probably happened is the chemicals mixed with the dye already in your hair and created a bad reaction. For a small fee we will be happy to resolve your problem."
Oh my fucking god. The nerve of this woman. Did she look like she was born yesterday? This was that idiot girl's fault and they all knew it. And now they wanted to charge her more? She had no intention of paying, anyway, since a simple glamour would do, but it just annoyed her on principle.
"You're kidding," Pam said in a state of slight disbelief. "Your retarded 'stylist' fucks up my hair and now you want to charge me to fix it?" her voice rose.
"Now, Miss," Cindy began, "There's really no need to get so worked up."
"Worked up? Oh, I'll show you worked up!" With that Pam's fangs snicked into place. The women jumped back in surprise and confusion but before they could make it far Pam snapped the neck of the manager.
Lisa immediately started screaming in terror. She looked between Pam and the body of her manager several times as if she could change what was happening through the force of her stare. Finally Lisa regained her senses and bolted for the back exit. She was no match for Pam, though, who was on her in less than a second.
"You ruined my hair!" she hissed. "It's time to die!"
"Noooooooo!" Lisa shrieked as Pam bit into her throat. Her blood was thick and sweet and tasted that much better because she completely had it coming to her for tricking Pam into thinking she knew what she was doing.
The girl struggled a bit but eventually fell unconscious. She drained her till death and then dropped her onto the floor. Luckily no one else was present so she didn't need to kill or glamour any unlucky bystanders. She wasn't quite sure what to do with the bodies, though. She briefly thought about reaching out to Eric but dismissed the idea. She was approaching 100 years old; she could handle this.
She surveyed the scene. Too bad she had snapped the one woman's neck, otherwise it might pass for an animal attack. She could leave them here but then there would probably be an investigation and that was never good. It would reflect poorly on Eric, as well, when other vampires learned of the killings because it would seem he was a weak sheriff who could not control the vampires in his area. She knew Eric wouldn't care about the deaths, just the backlash.
Fuck. This was getting more complicated than she had thought. She fought against every instinct in her body that was telling her to call to Eric for help, to ask him to rescue her as he had a dozen times before. She didn't want to burden him, not with everything he had done for her recently with the new house.
Avoiding looking at her hair in the mirror she moved around the office and erased every trace she had ever been there. She then quickly shoved both of the bodies into her car and drove off to the swamps.
TRUE BLOOD
Eric came home later that night from the video store. He had allowed Pam the night to go to the salon since they really did not both need to be there. She had done a beautiful job with the house, he must admit, and he didn't care if she went off to celebrate its transformation or not, just as long as she was happy.
"Pam?" he called up the stairs. It was still early, only 3 am, and he doubted she had gone to ground. Assuming she was even back from her spa, that was. "Pam?" he tried again.
Moving up the stairs he noted he could definitely feel her in the house. He grew a little concerned when she didn't answer. Normally this wouldn't be so unusual but he'd felt a few strange emotions from her earlier and now wondered if she was okay. He continued quickly to the master bedroom where he found her in her newly renovated bathroom.
"Hey," he greeted. She was seated at the vanity in the bathroom, elbows on the table, head in her hands. "How was your spa?"
She snorted in response. He stepped further in the room to move behind her and noticed an assortment of beauty products around her, more than her usual less-than-tidy bathroom displayed.
"Oh!" he said in surprise, finally taking in her hair as he turned his attention to her. "This… is a change."
Her head flew up. "The woman totally fucked it up, Eric!" she seethed. "She told me she could do it but she lied!" she said with a hint of disbelief coloring her angry tone, as though she couldn't fathom how someone could deceive her over something as important as her hair.
"It's nice," Eric lied, coming to stand behind her. He brought his hands to her shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. He looked down to his hands and saw a tangled mess of golden hair, normally so beautifully styled, looking like it had been the victim of an electrical surge.
"It's ruined!" she argued. "I tried to condition it. I tried everything." He didn't know what to say but continued to rub her back and shoulders. "I think I need to cut it," she whispered before her face crumpled in despair. She hid her face in her hands as she quietly cried for the first time since this nightmare began. All of her option exhausted, she had no more hope.
Her hair was totally ruined by some incompetent bitch and then she had to spend even more energy and time she could have been devoting to her hair on disposing of the bodies. She'd even ruined her shoes and skirt in the stupid Louisiana mud. Now she would have to cut off a good portion of her hair, more than she ever had in her entire existence, and a tiny part of her was mad at herself for not noticing the woman fuck up and for even trusting her in the first place.
Eric pulled her to a stand and enveloped her in a hug. He couldn't see why this was such a disaster but he didn't question her. She took in his comfort for a while before finally pulling herself together to do what needed to be done.
"I need you to do it," she said, reaching for a sharp pair of hair cutting scissors.
"What? I don't know what I'm doing." He tried to back away as she pressed the scissors into his hands.
"Just cut the back," she said. "I won't be able to." Just the thought of cutting off so many inches of once perfect hair pained her. "I'll finish the rest."
He looked doubtful still. She might kill him if he messed this up further. She took her seat once more and pushed her hair behind her shoulder.
"Cut here," she indicated.
"Are you sure?" he asked. He kneeled on the floor, her being much too short for him to reach as she sat in the chair. How hard could this be? He could handle this.
"Yes," she said. She gathered her hair in a low ponytail as best she could with it being so knotted. "Cut right there." She once more indicated a level at about her shoulder blades.
Just as he went to cut, she shouted, "Wait!" and he startled, nearly dropping the scissors.
"What?"
"It will grow back, right?" she asked.
"Of course," he said. If it didn't most vampires would have no hair left after only a few decades. Needless to say, it would not be pretty.
"Okay," she said and he took that to be his green light.
"Are you sure?" she checked once more and this time he pulled back to look at her in the mirror. It was times like these that he wished his progeny were male. But then he caught a glimpse into the side of her shirt and remembered why he appreciated Pam being female.
"Haven't you cut your hair before?" he asked. Surely she had learned this lesson already.
"Only very small amounts." She had only wanted to trim her hair before and only cut off a centimeter, if that, every couple of years. It wasn't enough of a difference for her to really be able to tell if it was growing, though it must have since her hair didn't seem to be getting shorter over time. Still, such a big change made her nervous.
"I promise," Eric told her, "that your hair will grow back. It may even grow faster than it did when you were human. Especially if you eat enough. Now may I cut it?"
She took a breath. "Okay, go." She heard a few snips and waited anxiously until Eric held up 8 inches of frizzy, breaking hair in the mirror in a mixture of disgust and fascination.
"Would you like to keep it?" he asked, standing up from the floor. She looked at him with horror on her face and he took that as a no, throwing it into the trashcan at her side.
Most of the cutting out of the way, she took the scissors from Eric. He watched silently for the next half hour as she managed to untangle the remaining hair before she snipped more, evening the length and cutting to frame her face. When she was done she put the scissors down and looked at her new slightly-longer-than-shoulder length hair.
"Not bad," Eric commented.
"Let's never speak of this," she decided. She couldn't even look in the mirror, not being able to remember a time her hair had not been long. She would just eat as many people as possible in the hopes her hair would grow back quickly.
"Alright," he agreed. "But… what happened to the girl responsible?"
"I ate her," she told him. "And her manager. So that they couldn't do this to another innocent person."
"I hardly think of you as innocent," he said. That explained the strange feelings he felt from her earlier as she no doubt tried to figure out what to do next and dealt with the bodies.
"My hair was!"
He smiled before asking, "Is this… justice going to be a problem?"
"No," she said. "I dismembered them and tossed them in the swamp. They made good snacks for the wildlife."
"Nicely done, my dear girl," he said.
"No one will ever treat my hair again," she decided.
And no one ever did.
