Slimfish789
The Calm Before the Storm
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as the sound of the guillotine slicing through thick virgin hair and Gracie’s shocked gasp still lingered in the air. From a small security room just down the hall, the office manager, Ms. Carter, watched the entire sequence unfold on the CCTV monitor with narrowed eyes.
A Calculating Presence
Ms. Carter, sharp, imposing, and with her perfectly styled short black hair framing her angular face, exuded authority and control. Her dark gaze was cold as she watched the footage. This wasn’t just an accident to her—it was opportunity.
A Hidden Obsession
For years, Ms. Carter had harbored a personal disdain for long hair. Her own style—clean, professional, low-maintenance—had been a symbol of power and order in her own mind, and ever since she took the role of office manager, she had tried subtly and not-so-subtly to shift office norms toward a sleeker, more “professional” appearance. Gracie, however, had always flaunted her knee-length, thick, brunette mane as if it were a crown. And it drove Ms. Carter crazy.
The Perfect Opportunity
Her goal had always been clear: find a way to convince Gracie to cut her hair. Unfortunately, attempts at subtle suggestions or gentle nudges had failed time and time again. Gracie loved her hair too much, wore it with confidence, and refused to compromise. Ms. Carter could respect determination… until now. This had gone far beyond her expectations. She saw it now as nothing but rank insubordination.
A Cold, Calculated Decision
The guillotine incident was perfect. Gracie’s hair had already been put into a vulnerable position, and Ms. Carter could now step in to ensure that her goal was accomplished without compromise or resistance. All she had to do now was act decisively.
A Sharp Command
Ms. Carter set her cup down on her desk, her lips curling into a cold, satisfied smile. The opportunity was too perfect to pass up.
She tapped the intercom.
“Charlie Green. Gracie Mercer. My office. Now.”
The Confrontation
When they arrived, the air felt heavier. Gracie had one hand nervously clutching at her uneven, freshly cut jagged chin length hair, her face pale, with her other still firmly clasp on her severed thick, dense pigtail. Charlie looked equally unsure, her hands shaking as she tried to focus on the sharp, quiet hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Ms. Carter was already seated at her desk, her black hair perfectly styled and neat, a symbol of order and control. She looked at them both with steely eyes.
“Sit,” she ordered, her voice sharp and commanding.
They hesitated but complied, their breaths shallow.
The Cold Truth
“I’ve just seen everything unfold on CCTV,” she began, her voice smooth, cold, and deliberate. “The accident. The hair caught in the guillotine. Gracie’s failure to exercise proper caution. Charlie’s… slip.” She let the word linger. “A mess, wouldn’t you agree?” She said with a sly smile.
The Lesson of Professionalism
Gracie tried to speak, but her voice caught. Her throat felt dry.
“I do not tolerate this kind of oversight,” Ms. Carter continued. Her voice became sharper, harder, more deliberate. “You’re both here because you failed to maintain professionalism. But what matters more is that this incident has given me the perfect opportunity to correct something that has lingered for far too long.”
The Unseen Plan
Gracie looked up, her breath coming faster. “What are you talking about—?”
Before Gracie could finish, Ms. Carter rose from her desk, and her voice became a razor-sharp blade:
“I’ve wanted this for years,” she said, stepping toward the pair with the calm presence of an executioner. “Gracie, your long hair has always been a symbol of distraction, defiance, and disorder. And I’ve tried, so many times, to find the right way to push you toward professionalism. But this? This was fate.”
The Revelation
Gracie’s eyes widened. “Wait, you planned this—”
“No,” Ms. Carter cut her off with a swift wave of her hand. “I always act decisively when opportunity presents itself. And this is too perfect for me to pass up.”
The Final Cut
Before either Gracie or Charlie could react, Ms. Carter reached toward a nearby cabinet and retrieved a sharp pair of scissors. Her voice was cold, sharp, and final:
“Charlie, you’ll finish what YOU started. Gracie, you’ll learn the lesson of professionalism and conformity.”
Reluctant Compliance
Gracie gasped. Her free hand grasping at her remaining half of knee length hair, dropping the already cut section of hair from her other hand, it hitting the floor with a soft THUD. Both her hands quickly joining together, firmly gripping her remaining long hair in an attempt trying to protect it from another attack. She begged “You can’t—please—”
Ms. Carter’s voice grew colder. “Charlie. Do It.”
Charlie’s hands trembled as she took the scissors from Ms. Carter’s outstretched hand, feeling the weight of the task before her. She took them, “Better” Ms. Carter snapped coldly.
Charlie turned slowly to face Gracie, seeing her protective grip on her remaining long hair “you know this has to happen at some point, don’t you?” She asked solemnly. Gracie sat in silence, frozen in place facing forward, expressionless, her hands gripping, covering and protecting her remaining long hair. Ms. Carter lunged forward “Oh for goodness sake girl!” she spat, grabbing Gracie’s wrists and pulling her hands away from her remaining thick, dense pigtail. Quickly pinning her arms to the chair, Ms. Carter snapped “Charlie, Get on with it!” looking at her with piercing eyes.
Gracie’s remaining long knee length hair was thick and heavy—unwieldy, it was more than enough to remind both of them of just how much was remaining and how much would need to be cut away. It covered half of Gracie’s back and flowed down the chair, pooling on to the floor and then under the chair like deep, liquid chocolate.
Charlie swallowed, not wishing to annoy Ms. Carter any longer. She brought the scissors toward the dense remaining strands, her heart pounding.
Seeing a single tear escape and run down Gracie’s face. Charlie estimated the position of the scissors, hoping to match the other side. “I’m so sorry Gracie” she thought, as she raised the scissors to Gracie’s remaining dense pigtail. Opening the blades, seeing the cold ruthless, remorseless, hungry steel of the scissors open at Gracie’s chin, A shiver went up Charlie’s spine. Closing her eyes, Charlie squeezed hard feeling the dense rope of thick healthy, virgin hair give slightly under the blades.
The Sound of Change
The first snip came, sharp and deliberate.
Shrrrick.
The sound was immediate—thick strands of hair parting beneath the sharp metal. Gracie gasped again, her body jerking as if she could resist the pull of the scissors. But the scissors continued their work.
Shrrrick. Shrrrick. Shrrrick.
The sound grew steady as each cut severed more and more of the remaining length, leaving Gracie with hair that quickly fell down to the hair tie, as it’s once natural tension was released by the cold heartless blades, where it was subsequently trapped, forever folded over by gravity in defeat. The scissors met the resistance of her thick, heavy hair with a rhythmic crunch as they continued their path through it.
Shrrrick. Shrrrick. Shrrrick.
The scissors bit further through the thick locks again and again, pulling and cutting with every motion. The sound of hair falling was loud—dense and wet, not delicate. Gracie could feel every pull, every slice, every snip.
A New Reality
The scissors reached the final remaining strands of her thick pigtail, and before long, with a loud definitive SNAP from the final closing of the blades. Gracie’s remaining long hair was gone. The pigtail falling heavily firstly on to the chair, then slipping slowly on to the floor with a SWISH and a soft THUD. Her remaining hair—violently reduced to jagged, rough chin-length strands, cruelly framed her face in a way that felt unfamiliar, disorienting.
Her hands trembled as she felt the sharp cool air kiss abruptly on her now-exposed nape. Her heart pounded.
Satisfaction in Order
Ms. Carter looked at her, her face cold and satisfied.
“There. That’s much better,” she said smoothly. “Much more professional.” Finally releasing Gracie’s arms. Standing up from her position over Gracie, she purposely loomed over both of them.
Unspoken Lessons
Gracie stared at the floor, her body shaking softly as she tried to comprehend what just happened. Her hands clenched at her sides.
Ms. Carter glanced at Charlie and gave a satisfied nod. “You’ve learned your lesson. Return to your cubicle. Don’t let this happen again.”
Turning to Gracie. she reached out, sliding her hand into one side of Gracie’s now unevenly cut chin length hair, feeling the rough ends of once long thick virgin hair sweep along the back of her hand, it had been violently reduced to almost nothing of its previous life . Ms. Carter smiled cruelly, fully satisfied with what she had orchestrated.
Grabbing a thick handful of the now short hair, twisting it slightly for emphasis, she forced Gracie to look up at her “So nice for you to finally conform”. She said smugly. Tears welling in her eyes from the sharp pain in her scalp where Ms Carter was tightly gripping and twisting her hair. All Gracie could muster is a soft defeated “Thankyou Ms Carter”. Satisfied, Ms Carter let go of Gracie’s Hair.
Walking back behind her desk, Ms Carter barked at them “You can leave now” pointing at her office door.
The Final Act
Gracie and Charlie didn’t dare protest as they left the office in silence, the sound of their footsteps the only thing that broke the still air.
Ms. Carter smiled faintly to herself as she looked at her reflection in the glass.
It was good to have goals—and even better to see them fulfilled.
— To be continued… —
