They walked the streets of the city as they had done before. This time the attention that Isobel garnered from others was different. These were not the occasional inquisitive glances from sinners and hellborn wondering at this strange looking woman who dared to walk by the side of the Radio Demon. There was now recognition in their eyes. They knew her. They knew her name, and what she had done. And though none processed the courage to approach, they looked on with a sense of approval, almost a kind of pride, like the small town quarterback coming home after leading the team to victory during the big game.

The crowd did not exactly follow them, but it seemed like a few outliers were always on the periphery, just outside the bubble she and Alastor moved in. Though she tried to ignore it, their presence made Isobel wary. However, Alastor seemed completely at ease. Maybe he was just used to the feeling of strangers noticing him, leering at him, following him. But let's be honest, no one followed Alastor. Usually they all ran in the opposite direction.

Eventually they made it to a high street. The sidewalk passed by several different shops, a florist, a butcher, a tailor, etc. Alastor hesitated a moment to glare across the way at a large window where a multitude of TV screens played a stream of inane ads. Isobel tugged at his sleeve and they continued on. At the end of the street Alastor suddenly stopped, opening an otherwise nondescript door.

Isobel thought she had seen all the weird this place had to offer, but as she walked through the door she was shocked to find a kind hellish hair salon. It was surprisingly elegant in a slightly dingy way. The walls were hung with red and purple curtains. Each chair was manned by a well dressed woman, a cannibal, a succubus, and a sinner with goat ears and small ossicones.

"What the fuck is this?" Isobel asked.

"Well you see, you've been looking rather atrocious, darling," Alastor said, placing his hands behind his back and rocking on his heels. "And I'm tired of finding long black hair in random, odd places."

"Oh, of course," Isobel said with a suspicious glance.

She was escorted to a chair where she sat feeling somewhat anxious, not quite knowing what to expect. Happily, it was all so very normal. Her hair was cut to the middle of her back. It felt instantly lighter and the goat-eared hairdresser handed over a nine inch braid of discarded hair. Isobel took it, still surprised at how long it had grown.

"You have such pretty hair. And so much of it," the hairdresser said as she raked her fingers through the black tangles.

"Thank you."

"So tell me," She continued as she snipped and clipped, shaping the wild mess and adding to the carpet of small black hairs now surrounding the chair. "Is it true what they are saying about you?"

"I don't know." Isobel stared into the mirror before her, suddenly uneasy. "What are they saying?"

"Oh, there are a lot of things being said about you." She saw Isobel's expression and instantly became apologetic. "It's all good things, don't worry."

"Probably best not to listen to rumors."

"Of course you're right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's fine," Isobel said with a soft smile. "People like to talk, make things bigger or more important than real life, you know. I just don't want that impression for myself, personally."

The goat-eared woman nodded with a thoughtful expression, as if she had not expected such a humble reply. Thankfully she didn't say much of anything else. She cut and washed Isobel's hair, then she started pinning it up in elaborate twists and curls. Though happy to have it off her neck, Isobel worried about Alastor's reaction. But as she walked up to him after the appointment, he simply looked down at her with something like adoration.

"What do you think?" Isobel asked, expecting a snide retort and veiled threat.

"Quite fetching," he replied, though he was actually thinking about how he was going to rip all those bobby-pins out later. "Very Anita Page."

"Who?" Alastor just looked at her as if she was crazy for not understanding the reference. Isobel just shook her head. "You're so old."

She turned to thank the hairdresser again only to find her now one step behind, hands clasped and downward gaze. Isobel couldn't tell if she was trying to be respectful or if she was afraid to meet Alastor's eye. (He did have that effect on people.) But she thanked her all the same.

They took their time strolling back to the hotel. They chatted along the way, and Isobel couldn't help but feel at ease, like this was how it was supposed to be, like this was truly where she belonged. Once they had returned to the hotel she reached into her pocket and produced the braided lock of her cut hair. She hesitated and then presented it to Alastor.

"And what is this for?" he asked.

Isobel shrugged, "I don't know. Black magic, voodoo, eat it. I'm not sure what you would do with it, but I thought you might like to have it all the same."

He scrutinized the rope of hair before taking it and stuffing it into a breast pocket.

"Thank you. It will make a fine sacrificial effigy."

She couldn't exactly tell if he was joking or not.

The next day Isobel felt a bit more like her old self and decided that a trip to the library would do her good. She braided her hair, glad that there was less of it now, and headed out. As she exited the hotel she was surprised to see about a half dozen members of what Alastor called her 'adoring public' already waiting. They didn't seem to interact with each other. They simply stood or milled about. However, there did seem to be a change in their demeanor this morning. Maybe it was because she was on her own, but this day they all smiled back at her freely, earnestly. A few even ventured a quiet 'hi' or head nod. Isobel responded in kind as she passed.

She noticed that they all were wearing a kind of badge or button on their collars or chests. She couldn't make it out clearly. It looked like a green circle with some kind of geometric pattern inside. Each had a dark feather rising from the top. Isobel left the little gathering of people at the top of the hill and headed toward the library.

The morning was quiet and Isobel was left alone with her thoughts, which she was grateful for. The library stood as it always had. Thank goodness for the things in life that stand the test of time. The sunbeams pierced through the high windows, the dust danced in the light, and Isobel's footsteps echoed off the tall bookcases. It felt like the first time she had discovered it, mysterious and exciting. She set out to rummage through the stacks once again and take home a few choice books that the church frowned upon.

She found a selection of particularly old volumes and started to investigate. Just when she thought she had looked through every section, she found something new. As she pulled one off the shelf she found that it had a brass chain wrapped around its spin. All of them did for some reason. What section was this? She looked for a sign and found a small label the read Torture and Depravity. She wrinkled her nose and replaced the book. No wonder she had previously avoided the section.

She turned away and instantly screamed and jumped back. She hit the bookcase with enough force as to send some of the books on the higher shelves tumbling down to the floor.

"Holy fuck," she exclaimed, holding her chest for fear of her heart leaping out. Behind her, silently standing, waiting, a sinner stood grinning. Isobel's eyebrows knitted together. "Didn't you cut my hair yesterday?"

It was the same goat-eared woman from the salon. Her grin brightened ever more at the fact that Isobel remembered her.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," she said. "I saw you come in here and thought, what a perfect opportunity to talk to you."

"Have you been following me?" Isobel asked, appalled.

"No, no, well, a little. Just this morning."

"What do you want?"

"I just want to talk to you. We couldn't yesterday. There were just so many people around, and then there was the Radio Demon. I could tell you weren't really comfortable."

"Gee, I wonder why." Isobel side-stepped around her wondering if she could out run this weirdo to the door. Isobel was taller, and this goat girl seemed rather meek and subdued. Maybe she could take her in a fight, but she was dead. Would that add to her strength?

"Can we just start over?" The goat girl said. She could tell Isobel was ready to bolt. She was giving off the totally wrong impression and needed to right the ship. "My name is Kali. I wanted to talk to you because I've noticed you before. Actually I was there that day when the angels came to take you."

Isobel stopped, "you were?"

"I was on my way to work that day and I saw the angels. I thought it was another extermination or something. I was terrified, thought that was the end for me, but then I saw you. And you weren't afraid of those angels at all. I thought it was amazing, but in the end they still took you."

Isobel recalled that day very clearly. She could still feel the pain of the chain breaking. It was not a day that she liked to think about. It had been rather traumatizing. She had no idea that those series of events could have affected another as well, but in a very different way.

"After seeing you like that I wanted to learn as much as I could about you. I found articles about you. About the fact that you were a living soul, and you were this glamorous nightclub singer,"

"It wasn't that glamorous."

"And then I saw you on TV singing. I was shocked. And then there was that fight with the angel. All the things that you've done are just incredible. And I just really wanted to meet you and ask you if it was true." Kali paused, it seemed like she was trying to summon the courage. "Did you really speak with God?"

"Oh, I," Isobel faltered. She had not told anyone about what happened in that church. It almost felt like it was a kind of secret that she was supposed to keep. "Uh, well, you see…"

Kali put a hand on Isobel's arm. "It's ok. You don't have to say it. I understand." Her expression was all Kali needed to confirm her suspicions.

"Why are you so interested in me? I mean, I know my circumstances are unusual, but crazy shit happens here all the time. I don't think I'm anything special."

"Oh, but you are." Kali thought for a moment leaning on a bookshelf. She needed to find the right way to explain. "When I arrived here, I couldn't believe it. I know I wasn't perfect, but never did I believe I would actually wind up in Hell. Many of us sinners are like that, just kind of confused at what we did to deserve all this, and it makes us afraid. And then there are the Overlords always scaring and tricking people to give up their souls for one reason or another. But what are we supposed to do? So we sign the contracts or make the deals, however, ultimately we become slaves.

But then we see you. And you defied all of that. You managed to keep your soul, don't seem to be afraid of anything, and found your own power. You know it gets the rest of us thinking that maybe we don't have to be scared after all. Here's someone we can get behind. Someone we wouldn't mind giving our souls to because we know you would take care of them." Kali grabbed Isobel's hand, looking up at her with big globe-like eyes. "You're an inspiration."

Isobel gently pulled away from Kali's grip.

"I think you may be making me out to be a bigger deal than I actually am. But glad I could inspire you, I guess."

"You know, if you ever need something, anything at all, you can call on any of us." Kali touched her own shoulder where Isobel saw one of the strange badges.

"What is that?"

"Oh this is just a little something that shows we are supporters of yours. I made them myself."

Upon closer inspection Isobel could now see that what she originally thought was a feather was actually a tuft of black hair.

"Is that my hair?"

"Yes, I thought you wouldn't mind. Like I said yesterday, you have a lot of it. And when I was sweeping up after your appointment I thought, 'this shouldn't just go to waste."

"Riiiiight," Isobel's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to leave now. This was, very… well, it was something."

"Do you want me to walk you back to the hotel?" Kali offered.

"No thanks," Isobel called over her shoulder on her way out. Just outside the doors a few other people with hair badges stood. They all smiled when they saw her. She walked past them at a quick stride.

She went straight to the hotel as fast as she could, crossing the little mob out front, each of their own badges seemed to wink at her as she went. She crossed the threshold and leaned her back on the front door as it closed behind her.

"Ay! There you are," Angel Dust called from the lobby. "You look weird, what happened?"

"I think," she couldn't believe what was about to come out of her mouth. "I think I might have accidentally created a cult."