Nothing So Perfect

The long auburn hair she'd been proud of her entire life was chopped short and dyed the most average brown that the old woman could find. It didn't match the color on the box, probably a bit darker. Maybe it was just the bad lighting in the cheap motel bathroom, or maybe it had been the bad lighting in the convenience store. Maybe she messed it up? No matter, it was different and that was the point.

Her hair had been a point of pride, an uncommon color in her community and a length that was never allowed to grow past her tail bone, not that she wanted that, and it was never cut shorter than her shoulder blades. It had needed a lot of work to maintain, untold hours brushing, finding just the right soap, the right conditioner. Finding the exact spray that worked with each season and different level of humidity. It was more work than she cared to admit and now that her hair was chopped short, she was curious if she should have gone even shorter, taking care of this would be a breeze compared to what she was used to.

Her new hairdo came down to about her jaw, she pushed her hair behind her ears. The hair was a bit of a mess. Uneven, no, what would it be, layers? Jessel didn't know a lot about cutting hair but she knew she could have done a better job. It also could have been worse. Not much worse, but still.

The bruises on the side of her face and the fading scars on her neck stood out. She had spent the time cutting her hair, thinking of how much less work for her future self had to look forward to when it came to hair care, now she cursed herself for being so stupid and having cut it so short. She'd never cut any hair, much less her own. Her rank in court ensured that her most basic needs were met. It was all of her other needs that were ignored. No. Not just ignored. They were attacked. Assaulted. At the very best they were ignored. All satisfaction gone, she frowned.

The person looking back at her was not her. It was no longer the her that she'd grown to know over the first twenty-four years of her life. The hair was all wrong, the placid expression she had perfected was replaced with a weary look. Haggard was probably the right word. Her $5 grey sweat pants, bargain bin sports bra and gas station t-shirt didn't help. The t-shirt was blessedly baggy, Jessel thought that if it'd been tight and made her feel any more self-conscious she'd have burst into tears right then.

The clothing was a big change from how she had ever dressed, the hair was startling and she doubted most of the people she had lived with would recognize her at a glance. Now, the new eyes, they completed the transformation. The striking heterochromia that had defined her existence, physically and magically was gone. No longer did a grey and green eye peer back at her. Instead two large deep brown irises bore into her. Both the same color, not entirely inconspicuous, but much less distinctive than what she'd had up to this point. They were not her eyes and it made it feel like her face wasn't her face. These were her new eyes and that was her new face. This was the beginning of her new life. If she could just avoid falling asleep and drowning in a bathtub she might be alright.

Jessel walked from the bathroom, as ready to go as she could ever be. On the bed, facing away from her, she saw a man and she tensed. Broad shoulders, broad back and enormous shoulder muscles, the ones that can look like something is sitting on the persons shoulder. She would have joked with Breen that his muscles had muscles. She would have kept it to herself that she found it sexy. Like, real sexy.

What the hell was she doing thinking like that, he could be here to kill her. She stepped back a bit so she halfway in and out of the bathroom. She crouched and reached behind her fumbling around on the floor, keeping her eyes on Mr. Muscles and grabbing for the scissors. She got what would be her makeshift knife but she also caused the bags to crinkle. She froze.

His head turned and she could make out the side of his face just a little, he kept his eyes forward when he spoke, "Auntie asked me to stay here and help you if you need anything," he paused, sounding uncertain, "She went to switch out vehicles."

He kept the hair on his head and his beard short and tight, well manicured. His hair was black while, to her surprise, his beard was red. She took a second to look him over before responding. He did her the great favor of standing up while still facing away from her.

Mr. Muscles was wearing a grey tank top, unlike her shirt, it was definitely not baggy. The opposite of baggy. Painted on. He wore a pair of grey jeans and… damn, did he wear those jeans.

He turned around and the front of him was even better than the back. He was a giant. Jessel was tall at nearly 6 feet, aside from Ordog and his henchmen she had never met anyone she had to look up to. Really tilt her head back and look up. He must have been close to seven feet tall. His muscle wasn't the raw bulk of Flea and Lice, she could tell it was built on him through hard work in the gym. Or maybe outdoors. She liked that idea better, him outside, swinging an axe… She was in danger! She had to remember the danger. No matter what he said or looked like, she didn't know him.

Jessel shook her head, clearing it, "She didn't tell me she was going anywhere, " she thought the beldame had possibly said that but didn't let her doubt touch her voice, "and she damn sure didn't tell me she was leaving her nephew Mr. Muscles in the room either." That bit she unquestionably would have remembered. She stood as she talked, bringing the scissors she was tightly holding into view.

The giant held his hands up, "Woah woah woah." He took a step back. He was closer to the wall than the bed now.

She brought the scissors in front of her, holding them in a manner she felt might be threatening. She felt silly bringing such a small weapon to bear against such a big man but, fuck it, what else could she do?

The harsh ugly yellow light radiating from the overhead fan, which was missing all of it's paddles, combined with a lamp in the corner giving off the same ugly yellow light to cast odd shadows about the room. His shadow extended behind him against the wall, improbably even bigger than the man himself. Her shadow was mostly lost in the bathroom behind her, the scissors which were extended in front of her cast a long menacing swordlike shade on the wall.

Jessel wasn't sure the man on the other side of the room was telling the truth but she knew that she didn't know the man and at this very specific time in her life being stuck in a room with a man she didn't know could mean the end of her.

She shuffled to her left and pointed her do-it-yourself dagger at Mr.-Nephew-MuscleMan. With quick flicks of her wrist she stabbed the air with the scissors, pointing from the man to the corner and back. When he didn't move she added several furious of head nods, synching them with her scissors.

"Walk to the corner, man!" She half shouted in frustration when he had still not moved.

"Oh, oh, uh, yeah, uh." He moved one step further towards the head of the bed and that took him one step further from the door.

When it came to traits, brawns vs brain with this one, brawn ranked in at number two. Which was still one ahead of brain but a distant second to yum.

Jessel took a deep breath and refocused. She walked slowly towards the door. One step. One more step. Almost there.

"I'll sit on the floor, I'll sit on my hands, whatever you want but please, just don't leave!" He pled and then promptly sat on the floor, legs crisscross, dexterously shoving his hands under his butt in the same motion.

"Uh," She paused, considering how she wanted to say, 'That's great but I don't really know you and at this very specific time in my life being stuck in a room with a man I don't know could mean the end of me' so she said just that.

"That's great but, uh, I don't really know you and at this very specific time in my life," she used her free hand to point at herself, "being stuck in a room with a man I don't know," she pointed at him, "could mean the end of me."

"Yeah, yeah, that's totally cool, makes sense, I get that," he said, nodding his head, still sitting on his hands. "It's just, my aunt will kill me if you leave the room, she was very clear about that part," He got a far off look in his eyes for a second and shook his head as if shaking away a bad taste, "very specific."

She took another step towards the door, she reached for her the knob.

"At least let me go out first and make sure it's safe." He implored her. He started to pull his hands out from under himself. She thrust the scissors at the hulking man, the hulking man that was still mostly sitting on his hands and looking at her with the most adorable worried face.

Jessel thrust again, adding a flourish that she hoped was intimidating. He pulled his right hand completely out and waved it slowly up and down in a calm-down motion.

So quick that she surprised herself and without any of her trademark clumsiness, she tore the door open and flew through out into the night.

Muggy nighttime air hit her like a wave, bathing her body in the evening. A deep breath, ah yes, there it was, that mildew smell that she'd grown to love over the last… how long had she been here? It dug at her that she didn't know how long it had been, hours? One hour? Weeks? She certainly couldn't have been her more than a few hours. It was night, was it the same night? She looked into the sky for the moon.

Heavy footsteps alerted her that Mr. Muscle Nephewman was about one giant step behind her and she ran out past the line of cars parked in front of the rooms and into the middle of the parking lot. She spun around and held the scissors up, facing the door she'd just ran through.

Instead of sprinting out as she had expected, he emerged slowly, like sasquatch being caught on camera, looking about at the world in wide wonder. Or maybe just a ground hog looking out of it's burrow, worried it will see it's shadow.

He looked out into the night, scanning around behind her. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on something behind her. He stared over her should and said calmly, "Come to me, now, don't look behind you. Just come now." His voice was calm but the words were urgent.

When she did not immediately move he hissed, "Noooow!"

His tone pissed her off but she suppressed the urge to look over her shoulder in defiance and NOT go to him. She said simply, "There's nobody behind me. You're trying to trick me"

"No, that's so stupid. Just…" He began walking towards, still looking past Jessel.

"Back up." Again she jabbed at the space between them.

Gravel crunched behind her and she whirled around, ready to stab whoever it was that he was working with. What she saw was not a man and her scissors were not going to slow that thing down.

A thick squat creature stood in front of her, the size of a monkey. Maybe it was bigger than that, Jessel had never actually seen a monkey in person. It was about the size of a 10 year old child. The head was the size of a dogs and had the look of a rat. The body was a mix of beetle and rodent with carapace and fur, clawed hand and bug leg protruding out in the most odd places. Its tail cracked the air behind it. Of course it was one of the ones with a fucking tail.

The footsteps of the man behind her were silent. He had stopped his advance. Jessel dropped into a crouch, brandishing with a violent intent, for the hundredth time in about five minutes, scissors. She moved slowly back towards Mr. ManMuscle Nephew, she doubted that he and this thing were working together. If they were, backing into that man wouldn't be the worst way to go…

She narrowed her eyes on the creature, she knew it as one of the Sarkany. When a member of the court left on bad terms, these were the trackers, and executioners. Jessel knew instantly that she'd been out for days, Ordog believed she was visiting another community, they should not have noticed her missing for at least a week.

The man's voice said something behind her, she didn't hear, she was too focused on watching the Sarkanys every movement while moving ever so slowly backing away.

He said something again, it sounded just like the first thing he'd said.

The Sarnkany gnashed at her with its yellow jagged teeth and it took a lurching step forward, not afraid of the scissors but not wanting to lose an eye either.

She heard a scuffle begin behind her but didn't dare turn away from the beast before her. She recognized the voice of her would be muscly savior cry out in pain. A gunshot rang out. She flinched but didn't turn away from the abomination advancing towards her.

The sound of a vehicle speeding up as it left the highway and flew into the parking lot was what finally pulled her attention from the Sarnkany. The car was bearing down on her. More blasts from a gun behind her. The giant rodent/beetle flew at her. Without a thought she lunged to her right and twisted away from the car, her lightning lizard brain saved her life.

Her fancy footwork spared her from being struck by the grill of the truck and either being bounced into the motel or driven under the wheels. It did not stop her from being hit by the truck completely.

She spun off the side of the truck, shooting into a parked car, hitting herself against the trunk of the car across her lower back. The momentum drove her violently onto the trunk where she came to a rest, after her head bounced viciously of the rear window.

She tried to slide off the car but managed only to roll herself off the trunk and quickly onto the ground where the initial impact elicited a groan. For a short time though, her overall stay on the ground, she thought, was a net positive. It let her rest her tired body and her sore head on the cool ground. Those precious few seconds where the ignorance of her dire situation, as gifted to her by a concussion, allowed her to rest and relax on the cool motel parking lot pavement.

Alas, nothing so perfect could last forever.