Realistic tattoo on the upper arm of a stitched, bleeding doll-like figure in a striped top, with a smiley face and a graveyard behind it, in black, grey and red.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Stitched doll with graveyard on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A stitched, doll-like figure with a split, bleeding skull top and wide, staring eyes stands in front of a graveyard with crosses. Smooth, detailed shading gives the face and striped top a realistic depth, while red blood runs down the head and over the hand. The design is mostly grey and black with red accents, filling the upper arm.

Realism Upper arm Doll Skull Stitches Blood Graveyard Cross Smiley face

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lift had been out since Tuesday, so Tomasz took the stairs to the fourteenth floor with the doll tucked under his arm like a parcel he had not been paid to deliver. Someone had stitched its skull back together with black thread, badly, and the seam had already split again along the crown. He had found it wedged behind the bin chute on the ground floor, its striped jumper damp and its smiley face rubbed almost blank by the feet of residents who never looked down.

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Mrs Okafor opened her door on the chain and studied the doll for a long moment before she unhooked it. 'That's not ours,' she said. 'Our Lulu wouldn't leave Bunty behind. She sleeps with her in the crook of her arm, like a baby.' She pulled the doll through the gap and turned it over, pressing a thumb to the red thread someone had used to mend the top of its head. 'Somebody's been careless with her.'

Tomasz thought of the churchyard behind the car park, where the crosses leaned under the sodium lamps and the grass grew long enough for a child to hide in. He said nothing about it. The chain rattled back into place and he stood on the landing, watching the dark fields of stone beyond the railings until the timer on the stairwell light clicked off and left him in the dark.

Two days later, when he passed flat fourteen, the doll sat on the windowsill facing out, its good eye turned towards the graves, and somebody had sewn its stitches straight.