Colour tattoo on an upper arm and shoulder showing cartoon horror characters, a jack-o-lantern and an RIP tombstone in a graveyard scene.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Horror characters sleeve on upper arm

Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A large colour tattoo covers the upper arm and shoulder, showing chibi-style cartoon versions of horror film characters including a hockey-masked figure, a pin-headed character, a hatted character in a striped jumper and a doll with orange hair holding a knife. A carved jack-o-lantern, an RIP tombstone, green vines and a full moon sit within a misty graveyard setting. Smooth shading and bright, saturated colour dominate, with soft gradients in the sky and ground.

Upper arm Shoulder Jack-o-lantern Tombstone Moon Graveyard Vine

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The notice said the reunion was at the schoolhouse, but the schoolhouse had burned down before any of them were born, so they gathered instead at the churchyard wall, where the gate still hung from one hinge. Hob Mudge arrived first, his hockey mask already scuffed from the stile, and sat on the coping to wait. He had been the quickest boy in Carrick Lane and had never once explained the mask.

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Nail-Pate came up the lane with a carved pumpkin under one arm, its grin lit from inside by a stub of candle, and set it down among the nettles. Sam Creel followed, hat low, striped jumper pulled over his hands, counting headstones on his fingers as though one of them owed him money. Last came Pru Dimmock, orange hair full of burrs, a kitchen knife pushed through her belt. She had not been invited to anything in forty years, but she had heard the register would be read, and she meant to hear her name.

The register was read by the moon. It rose over the wall fat and white, and the vines came up out of the ground to listen, curling round the pumpkin and round the legs of the bench. They argued about who had been the teacher's pet, who had put the frog in the inkwell, and whose fault the fire had been, until Sam laughed so hard his hat fell off and nobody picked it up.

When the moon stood overhead, Pru laid her knife across the tombstone with its blade toward the sky. Nobody had told them the letters on the stone were theirs, but they read the names out anyway, one by one, and each answered in turn. Then they sat along the wall in a row, the candle guttering in the pumpkin, and waited for the next notice to come up the lane.