Black and grey tattoo of a Batman mask on the upper back that breaks apart into flying bats towards the top right, on a bare shoulder.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Batman mask dissolving into bats on upper back

Back · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a Batman cowl in solid black on the left, with its ears and eye cutouts clearly defined, which breaks up into a scatter of small bat silhouettes drifting up and to the right. The linework is bold with smooth black fills and some soft grey shading on the mask. The image is black and grey and framed from behind, with the subject's head cropped at the top and the tattoo placed across the upper back near the shoulder blade.

Back Batman Mask Bat Silhouette Superhero

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The mask had hung on the cloakroom hook since Saturday, and by Tuesday Ivy Calloway had decided it was hers by right of dusting. Black card, a stiff pointed ear on each side, two eye holes that someone had cut too close together. Terry Lusk had worn it to the Palais fancy dress with a borrowed cape that smelt of mothballs, and he had not come back for either.

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The decorations committee had spent a fortnight cutting bats from black paper for the ceiling, strung on fishing line above the sprung floor, so that every couple turning under the chandeliers had a few dozen small shadows wheeling over them. Ivy had counted forty-one on Saturday night and thirty-nine after the clean-up. She stood on the stepladder that afternoon, holding the mask up to the light from the high windows, and thought about how Terry had gone out through the fire door promising he would be the terror of Lancaster Road.

When Mr Hesketh rang the bell for the evening tea dance, she came down to find the mask had slipped off its hook and lay face up on the parquet, and a single paper bat had worked loose from its line and settled on the brow. She didn't mention it to Mr Hesketh. She folded the bat once along its wing and tucked it into her cardigan pocket, then hung the mask back where it belonged. Up above, the band struck up a foxtrot, and the strings of bats began to lift and turn towards the cloakroom, as though they had somewhere to be.