The Tattoo and the Succubus
Anna stretched out on the chair in front of me, settling back as I made the final inspection of the stencil on her arm. I’d known Anna for a couple years now, ever since her 18th birthday in fact. Twice a year she’d come in to get a new tattoo; it had become a little tradition. She’d turn up in sometime around March or October with a new design or idea and I’d do the rest. – I quite liked Anna. She was absolutely tiny, and a goth. This time her short hair was dyed black with vivid pink highlights. Her face had more piercing than I’d ever seen, and I’d worked with a few goths over the years. She had a bar through the bridge of her nose, a loop in her left eyebrow, …