TLBOH

It’s a quiet evening in the city and the moon has risen deep and proud into the night sky. There is a brisk wind that is enough to cause goosebumps on the neck and down the arm. One would notice that as there is silence in the air, the feeling of something sinister going on screams about to create just a slight ringing in the ears.

Down a steep alleyway lies a place that only those that yearn for its presence does it appear for them. A place where the world as most know it, isn’t quite right. That and to those that follow the sweet sound of its essence, are far from maintaining their own sanity. It’s calls, reaching out to those that have come to find themselves falling deep into the madness of their own minds.

Upon reaching their destination, those who have come to find themselves at it’s front doors are greeted with that of a spectacular sign. As a giant painted hand points down to another sign that reads. TLBOH Welcome to Mr. Mallace’s barbershop. Open Late and only Late. Please, give it a buzz. Below that is a circular sign that represents a target twirling about as though hyponotizing you to press the button right in the center. With decisions in mind the clicking has come to attention a pole, twisting and turning its rings of red blue and white. A symbol of past histories of blood and veins from a horrid past of back alley surgeries, tooth extractions, even bloodletting and leachings. All which drenched the bandages they used in which were dried out on a pole to be reused.

Reaching out with these thoughts and unknowing with finger, unable to quell the shaking as you press the button in sign, a bullseye at best. With a sudden jolt a loud buzzing which sent an echo which past into the night behind you. The door then jumped to sound as it churned itself to suddenly come alive. Grinds and gurr’s, twisting of metal and the whirring of things, musically entwined on that in a moment the door unlocked from its position to resettle from the deep recess of the wall. With a sudden jolt then a pop, the door opens, availing a light that beams from within. Calm was the light and easy on the eyes, in a mysterious way, called for you to step in.

The door opened much easier than the interperated weight would perceive. For enormous it was and intimidating at first glance it did seem. Swinging it open, the door promptly hits on a bell that hung from above. Echoing about like a Church was in session, awaking the whole world if it were not already indeed. The smells wafting the air swiftly came into focus as a sweet allure of ginger and spice filled the nostrils, calming the senses with its own special incantation. To this the door had completely opened to another spectacular spectacle indeed.

The first room of an entry, held a greeting table carved in stone and wood with a glass display cabinet strutting from the side. There was an enormous antique register polished to refect those who dare wish to be curios, and a crown piece above if it were not grandiose already. The display carries out with items of such unrecognizable to say the least, but such items ought to be hundreds or more years old. With an opening across, came another glass cabnet standing much higher with shelves holding similar such items as the display case before. Behind this case stood a wall display of ancient weapons and blades, all polished and shining in their own very way. There was lighting above to venture from each polishe peice to create the lighting in the room.

To the left of the room were that of a waiting room of chairs each with its inlays of old. Giant seating and comfortable they did seem. Before one could enter the room, a great wooded coat and hat rack greeted the customer a place to get comfortable. An amazing wooden base and a great silver crown, one could see such a peice in a grand station of sorts. There were Pictures a plenty adorning the walls, beautifully framed with its own love and care. Each one seemed alive and actively watching your presence in the room. They looked to move as though at anytime they would themselves pop out so to greet you. So many there were as to very soon it may over take you. Seem, they all would blur together and the details became that of just a dream.

Soon the mind would recenter its self as a sudden melody began to dance across the mind which sounded a gramophon playing somewhere in the distance. As your ears pop to the presence a humming makes itself known for along with the music it had only to become apparent. When out of the distance a great bawling laughter rang out, filling the room rising above the notes which were dancing in your head. With that, your attention was drawn and focused towards the back of the shop. When then a great voice bellowed, from behind two black curtains, “Greetings and salutations my guest and my friend. I have been awaiting your presence, so just get yourself comfortable, I will be with you in a moment.” The voice came from behind as glancing in the direction.

Beholden two mighty chairs in middle the room. Each one an ancient piece, hand made as carved metal, simmered from reflection above. Glistening with embossed leather of bolden colors of black and some red, each chair calling out for you to go sit an lay in. The feeling one gets as you glance at the set is as though your life is ending with an electric shock sent. From your head to your feet into eternity your soul is then spiralled from out your body to the chair. Your eyes are beholden the crowd that volunteered to witness this, they see a good time. Yet as these thoughts begin to course it’s way through to your mind, your realization had surfaced a pull prevalent within the very core exquisitely bound to these wondrous chairs. With this it would seem they send an inability to recall a yearning that holds you to only desire one thing, which is to gladly take a seat.

Behind such thrones are two stations of sorts. Workbenches they are, and staked with an elegant setup holding tools and trinkets beholden to the Barber trade. Glancing across the items you notice, with each sharpened piece and each glimmering edge, one would begin to wonder if it were a Barber, a Doctor, or possibly that of a lunatic playing undercover. Either which way it may be, you just have become it’s very next victim.

A laughter is carried into the air as before, from behind the black curtain in the back of the store. With eyes adjusting to the light of the room. A shadow of a figure seen pacing to and fro from behind as then did it come to a halt in the middle. With a burst of the curtain and a great “Tada” vociferously spoken and echoed as each curtain lay to each side. In the door way there then stood a most elegant of man. Tall and slender his skin taught as he stood. His mighty grin compared to that a virtuous upside down sad. “Welcome young lad, to my place of of superiority and excellence. This is say with the utter most confidence. You have may I say, you have definitely come, to the right place.” Dressed in black slacks and shinning polished black shoes, a reflection to that of the rest of his fit. A white buttoned up shirt, rollled sleeves and black apron, his hair slicked back In rockabilly fashion. His movement showed grace as that a cat hunting his prey, in this jungle of vast pictures, and array of ancient articles and collection of antiquities.

There was a sudden atmospheric jump as a violin from the back began to play a jaunty tune. That which memory had recalled from the past of an Antonio Vivaldi. With this the owner, a savage specimen of man, began humming along. With move and sway with great admiration. He spoke as he turned in a beconing stance. “Ahh, ‘La Stravaganza’ a macabre as such, a wonderful tune for this evenings endeavors.” With a spin to a bow he continued to speak in same manner, “Let me introduce myself friend.” As his smile then widened as he flicked his left hand up in the air. “What with those that do know me, some lived long and are just, as ancient as myself. My name is therefore known very far and wide. For in this very moment standing now at your service, a one ‘Mr. Mallace’ am I.” With grace he then stood and with quick movements he vanished, to quickly reappear next to a chair with a hand outreached with encouragement to draw near. “Come, sit and be still, make yourself comfortable. We will now you’ve arrived, take care of you here.” As Mr. Mallace continues to coheres you to sit. Laying one hand on the back of the throne of a chair. The other with a flick guiding you to come near, “Please sit, for we have much work to be done. The night is still ticking and the Moon lays above.” With teeth now bearing, Mallace’s smile turned to a grimace, till the allure of them both had finally taken over. The chair you did enter, his hand gently guided you in. “Good, good, see now that was not too difficult. Let’s bind this relation with that a recipe of old.” Mr. Mallace spun on his feet then turned on a dime. His humming continued as then did the violin dance, along with a plethora of string instruments.

Mr. Mallace grabs an urn from the table and from another a substance. He filled it then with a flick of his fingers the urn was then lit. Bellowing a deep smoke and wafting it in all directions, Mr. Mallace then did turn with a grin as he waved it. “This, young man is a recipe of old. One made deep in the past for a Queen Elizabeth I. Specially concocted by John Dee himself a mad man yes, but did have real connections” Wafting it more in the face of yourself, placing it aside and again turned to continue. The smoke then becoming stronger and compelling as the music then dancing as your vision was fading. “Breath and relax, there is a first time for everything.” Mallace voice echoed in the mind and suddenly you begin to feel your own skin untying. A stretching was beginning to circle up your body as then there was strong sense of pulling. Looking down you could see yourself as though you were unraveling. A sensation part sweet as with the fumes that now engulfed you. Without any terror in past to infect you, as the skin on your arms fell gracefully to the ground. What lay underneath was at most just amazing, these arms once were flesh now lay bear another entity. The claws your hand grew as the same feeling surprised you, growing out from your head curving round to then blind you. For a moment you felt that the growths might suffocate you. Then to hear in the distance a voice which relaxed you.

“There we are, your true form is utterly astounding. A magnificent spectacle for which you have become.”Mr. Mallace then giggles and with quick pats on your head. Then suprised you have become as a voice not even recognized by you suddenly stumbles out from your lips. Carried along with a series of notes which magically end as they fell to the presence of Mr. Mallace. “Please, take some off of the top and some on the side. Make sure you take down these horns as they have certainly become such a nuessance.

With a sudden cry of joy Mallace reaches the air with amusement! “I have found you my darling, I knew I would find you. A perfect tool for the right job.” Peering back over to you with a side grin and a squint of an eye. “Don’t worry your head young man, for all will be taken. Much precision I plan to make your problems dissolve for you will walk from here I promise, ready to take on your endeavors with a new frame of mind. With this yes! A new sense of pride and complete self confidence.”

With a little worry in your eye, looking up to Mr.Mallace and the immense glee on his face, you begin to wonder. As he rears back pulling a silver plated grinder from his workstation. His voice booms out as his laughter fills your ears, penetrating your mind, body and soul. The last thing you remember in the moment was as he came down on you, grinding away. There was also that grin he wore on his face. One that shown through the darkness as though you were a fish about to be eaten by a fierce shark in the sea.

End

Welcome, welcome to the stories in the book of TLBOH. “The Little Barbershop Of Horrors” come in, relax, and have a seat. Enjoy the age old adage of Mr. Mallace and his splendid cuts and long shared stories of those that have found themselves lost. There is plenty of room. As Mr. Mallace would himself say. “Come, come, there’s much work to be done”