"I'm going to give you my skin" He said. She stopped what she was doing, and looked at him with a confused look. "What are you talking about"? She asked. "My skin, you've been tattooing it for years now, it's only right that you have it when I die". The words came from his mouth, like they had been something he had rehearsed for weeks. There was no emotion on his face, no way to tell if he was joking or not. That was the type of person he was. He could tell you something with a completely straight face, and you would never be able to tell if what he was saying was true or not. Of course, he had that way about him as well. One look into his eyes and immediately you felt like you were under his control. He was just that type of person, and she had known that about him, since the first time she had first pressed her needle into his skin. She was the first person to ever tattoo him, and she knew that she would be the last. It had been almost three years since she started to ink his body, and she was starting to run out of space.


     "Something tells me that you're going to be around long after I'm gone" She said. A vein attempt at trying to steer off of the slightly morbid subject. She never minded morbid, she could be just as dark as anyone else. There was something about the words he was saying. They seemed to go right through her. It was as if she not only knew that he was being completely serious, but that this was something that was going to happen soon. "No, I'm almost done". He said. The very words sent chills down her spine. His words, his attitude, was different now than it had always been. The fun loving care free person that she had always loved to be around was completely different now. Darker, even for him.

     She had always been one of those people that didn't want the details if she didn't need them. "If it doesn't affect me directly, I don't want to know shit about it" She would always say. She had always classified herself as "a no bullshit kind of gal". She had done more than three hundred tattoos on the man that now sat in her chair. All of them almost the same. A skull that she had drawn out, specifically for him. The only difference was one small detail, just above the eyes of the skull. Each one of them had been numbered individually, and each one of them had a small designed, just above the number. For some it was a specific type of flower, or a small jewel. A few of them even had a small imoticons from computers. They were all the same, but all unique in their own right. She was just finishing the number on her latest piece of fleshy art, 313, with a small Chevrolet bow tie symbol about it. The man said not another word, and she had no desire to continue the conversation. She pulled the needle from his flesh, and placed it on the stainless steel tray that had been sitting beside her. She picked up a paper towel and folded it in half, spraying it with an antibacterial soap mixed with water in a planter spray bottle. She lightly pulled the moist towel across the mans skin, wiping away the blood and excess ink. "You're all done, make sure it looks ok". She said. "Oh, I know that it's more than ok, it's perfect" He said as he stood up from the chair. Another addition to the collection, another body in the pile of bones.