Her Name (No More) – SHORT STORY

tattoo gun2

Part 1
Part 2

“Pretty good for free,” she said, traces of a smile still there.

I buttoned my shirt, thanked her again, and was about to leave when she said, Sleep well. Exiting the shop I heard loud uncontrollable giggling which made me pause once I was outside.

*

After 2am I awoke. Eyes opening with encouragement, they wandered down from greyscale walls to the white sheets: blinking, awakening. Something small and black raced across the end of the bed and hit the floor. It was about the size of a tarantula I’d once held as a child at what was termed a ‘petting zoo’ by my parents.

Sitting up, feeling sudden 7am alertness with a double espresso, heart in a quandary on whether to get excited or not decided it would wait. I put the bedside lamp on. Leaning over the side of the bed on both sides I looked for it, whatever it was.

I put my feet on the floor, the coolness pleasant, stood up and began searching, kicking and prodding at piles of clothes, searching for some proof I hadn’t hallucinated. Then I walked past the wardrobe, the mirror door reflecting me. But it was wrong! How could a mirror be wrong? A mirror was always truthful. I stood next to it and twisted. Underneath the see through wrap, I saw her name once more. And the wizard? The wizard was gone…or!? – looking at me from the floor behind me, the eyes lit up in blue, the crystal ball glowing orange and the wand…was raised up as if electrified and was swinging down, aimed at me, as I stood helpless as if made of stone.

Every night for the next three weeks until I had to call in sick to work from exhaustion, that fucking wizard woke me up once I fell asleep. I thought I was going crazy. Maybe I was crazy before anyway. So crazier? Even five diazepam couldn’t keep me asleep. In the depth of night the wizard appeared and began destroying things. The damage he inflicted was usually minimal due to his size, but have you ever taken a thunderbolt to the temple? Or been temporarily blinded by a crystal ball? Once he found his way to the kitchen glasses began to break, walls and cupboards became like ancient castle walls, peppered with dents. I’d tried capturing him. I’d tried everything. And when I eventually fell asleep once more he was there by my side, as if nothing had happened. Maybe I hadn’t tried everything?

I spent an afternoon going through the phonebook, of calling up and being hung up on, being asked if it was a prank, or hearing sarcastic responses, some of them even putting the call on loudspeaker and clowning me without remorse.  “Hi, I’m looking for a tattoo removal service…yeah, but literally…from my apartment.” Maybe I needed to change the angle.

Only as I lay on the sofa in my second week of sick leave, my face more resemblant to a panda by the day, did the obvious slap me across the face. I’d have to get a third tattoo. And hope.

Honestly, if it wasn’t Margaret Thatcher, it was a wizard. Glancing down in my shirtless malaise, I pulled the skin to look him in the face. My very own gremlin. “Your days are numbered!” I said. There was no recognition, no movement, just beautifully crafted shades of black.

*For any that don’t know Margaret Thatcher is a much hated one time Prime Minister of the UK.

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31 Comments

  1. Ha! What a great story. I can just imagine the terror of it at first and then the angry annoyance as he wreaks his tiny havoc. I hope the third tattoo works!

  2. I thoroughly enjoyed all three parts this fascinating horror story. There are so many unanswered questions…who is that creepy tattoo artist? And, most interestingly, why did he date a woman named Margaret Thatcher?!

    1. Thanks for reading ☺
      The tattooist, who is she? Not sure lol I guess if there was a part four it would involve her.
      And Margaret Thatcher is an ex-prime minister of the UK, and one of the most hated people ever in UK politics. Why he dated her…well, a big mistake, an error of judgement when he was younger ☺

      1. I have some knowledge of UK politics (I lived in England for several years). 🙂 Oh, I thought he’d dated someone else who happened to have the same name as the former prime minister. 😉

  3. A tiny 3D-wizzard popping from a 2D tattoo and wrecking havoc in your life Chucky style. haha Hilarious. On top of the very imaginative storyline, your style is breathtakingly precise and cinematic. I can practically watch the action unfold in front of my eyes as I scan through your lines.

    1. Wow, big thanks for this comment and all the others too. ☺☺
      Storywise, I thought it was time a tattoo came to life.
      And stylistically, I try and include the necessary without getting bogged down in too much writing that doesnt push the story along. I’d prefer my writing to be like a runway model, than like a bloated corpse pulled from a water source.

      1. Haha! It was high time and you did a great job pull it out! You have just the right balance between action and description. Haha, you and your writing are way closer to the catwalk than the morgue^^ You can be sure of that.

    1. Thanks bjorn. I was trying to think of the worst womans name possible and hers was right there lol I wasnt too sure about it, but I’m quite happy with the rest. And in a literal sense, yes its a cover up lol
      I really appreciate you reading through the story 👍

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