"Snip, snip, snip~." The Barber sang as she cut along the fabric of your attire, trying to fit it perfectly on your form. Her voice was quite soft compared to how she was when greeting guests.

"Ah, stand perfectly still, alright? Unless you want to become my next set of ribbons and frills, that is?" The Bloodfiend cracked a smile under her crow-shaped mask.

It was strange, despite yourself being that of a latter generation of Bloodfiends, she treated you with the same respect one would show to an Elder.

After seeing your lack of response, she spoke up again. "Well, I would rather you stay alive. The materials I put into your outfit would go waste if you suddenly dropped dead~." She puffed up her cheeks into a light pout.

"Well, all done. So, what do you think, hmm? Have I lost my touch, dear assistant?" She giggled as she ogled her handiwork, fluffing up the frill of your collar.

"Now, let's go greet our new round of guests to our lovely LaManchaland!"

She grabbed your wrist and began to drag you along, but not before quickly grabbing her largest sheers, which she used to greet guests, humming a whimsical tune as she did.

Guests? They were closer to lambs in a slaughterhouse as you and every other Bloodfiend in LaManchaland knew it.

You both ended up at the entrance to Section 1 of LaManchaland, eagerly awaiting for the next batch of unsuspecting City denizens to walk their ways into your maws.

As the gate swung open and citizens and Fixers alike began to flood into LaManchaland, The Barber picked up her sheers, which were the same height as her, and hoisted the sheers to her side.

"Well? Let's have ourselves a feast, assistant." She smirked, her eyes glowing a deep red. The cracks in her mask revealed the underside of her skin. The scars and wrinkles, you couldn't even count them anymore.