"The Tattoo Master of the Damned". 🩸

The devil stands above his captor, taunting...daring him to create the perfect inked irezumi...the only way to free himself. Frenziedly, the artist sketches...he must ink bold designs featuring mythical creatures...vibrant, nature motifs and folklore. His aim...to lure more victims to his captor's lair.

Kirin draws the creature for which he is named...he inks dragons, yōkai, evil koi fish and venomous snakes.

He invokes the gods of tattoos everywhere...give him release in the depicting of legendary heroes and significant symbols from Japanese culture.

Once, Kirin had been free to walk the earth. But now he dares not sleeps! The cosmic inker frantically creates to escape the realm of the damned. But can he?

The walls are lined with glyphs and intricate arcane symbols. The air is thick with a strange, oily mist, and the artist's eyes glow with an unsettling, neon-green light.

To the ordinary eyes of humanity, you see what the master jailer wants you to see...you will enter a regular tattoo parlour, through a regular door...not realizing that you have entered a dimension created purely by illusion. A fantasy drawn from the canvas of a wily otherworldly magician to entrap and beguile.

Once you have crossed over into this alternate universe...It will be far too late...for you have stepped into a twilight zone...Those who enter, never leaves the den of "The Tattoo Master of the Damned". Here, ink that stains the soul and a story unfolds in layers: skin, shadow, and cosmic dread. A chilling horror story, unfolding over one night in the cursed den of the Master of the Damned.

🩸

The Invitation begins with a flyer...cheap, glossy, and oddly warm to the touch.

“One Night Only: Free Ink by the Legendary Tattoo Master. No Appointments. No Regrets.”

The address was a place no one remembered seeing before: #13 Ashvale Lane. It makes no difference though...for those who are drawn here are way beyond redemption...their minds a fog of mystery, misery and despair.

Five strangers arrived just after dusk, drawn by curiosity, desperation, or the thrill of the unknown.

- Kalia, a grieving mother seeking a memorial tattoo for her lost child.

- Marco, a thrill-seeker who’d never turned down a dare.

- Tally, a runaway with scars she wanted covered.

- Eli, a skeptic YouTuber chasing urban legends.

- Ravi, a quiet man with a strange birthmark that pulsed when he neared the shop.

The parlor looked ordinary...neon sign flickering, walls lined with flash art. But the air inside was thick, like breathing through cloth soaked in blood.

🕷️🩸

The Master emerges from the back room without sound.

Tall. Ageless. Eyes like black holes. His voice a whisper that reverberated in their bones:

"Choose your design. The ink knows you". He rasped gruffly.

Each person found a sketch that seemed drawn from their dreams - or nightmares. They didn’t remember sitting down.

They didn’t remember the needle.

Only the pain. And the visions.

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

Let’s peel back the skin and see what drives each soul to the Master’s door. These aren’t just clients; they’re offerings. Each story a longing, guilt, or madness.

🩸 Kalia – Carries Grief That Would Not Die ...she hadn’t spoken her daughter’s name in three years. Not since the accident. Not since the silence. The child’s room is untouched, a shrine to a pastel ghost....grief is a parasite needing a host.

One night, she dreamt of a tattoo: her daughter’s name in angel wings. The wings bled. The name pulsed. She woke with the image burned into her mind, and the flyer on her pillow. She thought ink might seal the wound.

Kalia did not ask questions...her mind had long gone beyond what was real and what was not. The flyer was a balm to her soul. Something tangible to hold on to.

She didn’t know it would open a door.

🩸🩸🩸

🔥 Marco – He was inked for...A Dare That Went Too. Living for adrenaline. Cliff dives. Street races. Fire-eating. He had a YouTube channel called “No Fear Marco”, and a fanbase that dared him to go further.

One comment read: "Get inked by the Tattoo Master. If you survive, you’re legend".

He laughed. He went. He chose a dragon - coiled, snarling, majestic.

But the dragon unearthed secrets Marco had buried. About the fire he started. About the boy who didn’t escape.

🔥🔥🔥

🌹 Tally – The Girl Who Wanted to Disappear

Tally had run from everything: Her family. Her past. Her name. She lived in hostels, wore wigs, changed accents. Her body bore scars...some self-inflicted, some gifted by others.

She wanted roses. Beautiful, red, blooming roses to cover the pain.

The Master offered her a design that shimmered with promise.

But the roses had thorns. And each thorn remembered.

🌹🌹🌹

📸 The Skeptic... Eli hunted myths. Urban legends. Haunted places. He debunked them all with logic and snark.

When he heard about the Tattoo Master, he smelled content gold. He brought his camera, his mic, his bravado. He chose a tattoo of an eye...It blinked. It saw him. Now Eli’s footage shows things no lens should capture.

And his subscribers are vanishing, one by one.

📸📸📸

🕷️ Ravi had always felt… watched. His birthmark was shaped like a spiral, and it burned when he lied. He’d spent years studying occult symbols, trying to decode it.

When he saw the flyer, he knew. This was the place. This was the test.

He didn’t choose a tattoo. The Master chose him. And the ink didn’t just mark Ravi...it awakened him.

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

🩸

The Ink undreamed as the tattoos were completed, the parlor began to shift.

Walls bled. Mirrors showed alternate selves. The designs writhed on their skin, speaking in unfamiliar tongues.

~Kalia’s tattoo of her child’s name began to cry.

~Marco’s dragon coiled around his spine and hissed, "Burn them all".

~Tally’s roses bloomed thorns that pierced her flesh.

~Eli’s camera melted into his hand, recording his thoughts.

~Ravi’s birthmark merged with the ink, forming a symbol that pulsed like a heartbeat.

The Master smiled.

“You are marked. You are mine.”

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

The parlor was no longer in Ashvale Lane. It floated in a void of ink and stars, tethered to a monstrous entity beyond time. The Master was its priest.

Each tattoo was a contract, binding soul to flesh, flesh to the web.

They tried to escape. The only way out was through the ink.

🔥Unmasked... One by one, they were consumed...unless they could rewrite their mark.

The master, distracted by his morbid desire to watch the dying, writhing bodies...failed to see Ravi bringing about his undoing

Guided by the pulsing sigil, Ravi began to draw over his tattoo with blood. A countering rebellion.

The Master screamed, his form unraveling into smoke and teeth. The parlor cracked. Reality bled in.

Only Ravi and Tally escaped, their tattoos now dormant...but watching.

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

🕯️ Epilogue: The New Ink

Weeks later, a new flyer appeared.

Same words. Same warmth.

But now, the new tattoo artist’s face looked eerily like Ravi’s....With a ghostly smiling face of Tally's in the background.

No one ever escapes this cosmic Master's tattoo parlour.

They always must honor the contract.

Kirin...now the new Master...

Waits.