Page 23 of Echoes of Eternity

“Absolutely. I don’t care about the price. Ineedthis tattoo, and I need it from Mae,” he insisted, his fervor only intensifying.

I shot Jake a glance, my heart racing. This was spiraling out of control. “You don’t have to make any hasty decisions,” I said, trying to keep the situation from escalating further. “We can discuss it?—”

But he shook his head, resolute, pulling out the same crumpled piece of paper from before. “No. I know exactly what I want,” he pointed. “I dreamt of it, and it’s meant to be.”

I glanced at Jake, who wore a look of concern mixed with disbelief. I reluctantly prepared my station, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Jake rang him up for me but I couldn’t shake the unease creeping through my veins. The guy hadn’t done anything outright wrong, but his intensity and fixation on me felt more than a little unsettling.

“Okay,” I said slowly, trying to sound composed while I gathered my supplies.

As I set up my station, I stole another worried glance at Jake. His brows were furrowed, and I could tell he was still ready to step in if things took a turn for the worse. I appreciated his silent support, but I also knew I needed to handle this.

“Just focus on the art,” I reminded myself, trying to shake off the growing discomfort. “You’re a professional.”

With a deep breath, I turned back to the creepy guy, calling him over to my station, ready to dive into this strange and unexpected tattoo session.

“And what’s your name, sir?”

It felt important to put a name to the creeps surrounding me. It was becoming a pattern I didn’t like.

“Joel.”

As I prepared to ink the tattoo, I studied the piece of paper he had handed me—a rough sketch of the strange bird-like man engulfed in flames. The lines were jagged and chaotic, but the imagery was striking. I could see the concept behind it: a figure caught in turmoil, symbolizing both suffering and resilience.

“What does this mean to you?” I asked, trying to make sense of the messy energy swirling around us as well as curious.

He leaned back slightly, his gaze unwavering as he explained. “It represents my battles. The flames symbolize my past—the pain and the lessons. The bird… it’s about freedom, rising from the ashes.”

“Powerful,” I replied, nodding slowly. I took a moment to refine the design in my mind, imagining how to transform his rough sketch into something fluid and intricate. The more I absorbed the meaning behind it, the more I felt a connection—an understanding of the struggle he wanted to portray.

As I readied my tattoo machine, I couldn’t help but notice how intense his focus was on me, as if he was absorbing every detail. The energy in the room shifted, and while I tried to immerse myself in the creative process, I couldn’t shake the lingering unease.

I set the sketch down, my heart racing slightly while I began to prepare the ink and needles. I knew I needed to reclaim my space in this moment, to focus on the artistry and the story behind the tattoo. With a deep breath, I reminded myself that I was here to create something meaningful—something that would resonate long after the ink had dried.

“You said your back, correct?”

He nodded and turned over.

As I positioned the stencil on his skin, I took a moment to study the contours of his back. The tattoo would have to flow seamlessly with his body, embodying the struggle he wanted to express. I pressed the machine to the skin, and the hum vibrated through the air, breaking the silence.

With each stroke of the needle, the image began to emerge. The bird, with its outstretched wings the color of blood and obsidian, seemed to flutter to life under my hand. The flames licked at its edges, dancing around itsform, capturing the raw agony he described. I focused on the details, the fierce expression on the bird’s face, as if it were trapped between pain and freedom.

As I worked, I felt an odd connection between me and the image. It was as if the bird were gazing into my soul, reflecting the anguish and turmoil that lingered beneath the surface of both our lives. I could almost sense the weight of his struggles translating into the ink, each line and shade imbued with emotion.

Jake strolled by, a knowing look in his eyes. He raised his eyebrows and gave me an encouraging nod, his subtle gesture a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this.

As I continued inking, I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the process with an air of casual confidence.

With his support lingering in the background, I found myself moving with a renewed rhythm, each stroke of the needle becoming more deliberate. I could feel the energy in the room shift, almost as if we were all collectively invested in the creation unfolding before us. The connection between artist and canvas was palpable, and I allowed myself to get lost in it.

Jake's nod had ignited something in me, a fire that pushed me to delve deeper into the details, making sure each flicker of flame and feather captured the essence of the story we were telling.

I continued, lost in the rhythm of my work, the needle puncturing the skin in a steady cadence. The flames swirled around the bird, givingthe piece a dynamic energy, as if it were caught in an eternal dance between suffering and liberation. Each layer of ink added depth, transforming a mere image into a vivid portrayal of his inner battles.

With every moment, I felt the atmosphere shift, charged with a sense of urgency and connection. It was more than just a tattoo; it was a shared experience, a glimpse into the pain we both carried. As the final details came together, I stepped back for a moment to admire the work, my heart raced at the… image of a supernatural warrior staring back at me.

I didn’t notice the collective silence until Jake let out a low whistle, followed by Chivonn's soft gasp of awe. Their reactions pulled me back into the moment, reminding me of the impact of what I was creating.

A satisfied grin crossed Jake’s face. “This is exactly why it was meant to be your tattoo,” he mumbled, clearly impressed.

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