Close-up photo of a colour tattoo of a zombified Hello Kitty head with a red bow, shown in bold black outline on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Zombie Hello Kitty tattoo on upper arm

Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A bold black-outlined Hello Kitty head with a red bow, one half rendered in grey as a decayed skull with an exposed eye socket and the other half in pink and red flesh tones with orange detailing. The linework is heavy and the shading is smooth, with flat colour in the bow and the wounds. The tattoo sits centrally in the frame on a limb with light body hair, with other tattoo work partly visible at the top right.

Upper arm Hello kitty Zombie Bow Cat Eye Skull

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow has sealed the glen road since Tuesday, and by the third night the Crannoch Inn has run out of everything except sherry and digestive biscuits. You sit by the grate with a mug going cold and watch the cat-shaped biscuit tin on the dresser. Nobody has opened it in years. Its white face has gone the colour of old piano keys, and a red satin bow is knotted under one ear, faded to the rust of a dried wound.

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Mrs Ferrand, who has kept the place since her husband's funeral, tells you the tin came with the building. He kept it stocked with shortbread for the shepherds, and when the first hard winter took the bridge, he sat up with it every night, talking to it like a sensible neighbour. "Half of him stayed in the kitchen," she says, "the half that minded the stove. The other half went out after the ewes." She laughs, then stops laughing and refills your sherry without asking.

At two in the morning the lamp gutters and you hear the tin lid lift. Inside there is no shortbread, only a brass key and a card in copperplate: Keep the bow tied, or the weather comes in. You pull the ribbon tight, tight as a tourniquet, and the wind dies so suddenly the silence rings.

In the morning the road is clear and the plough is grinding up the hill. Mrs Ferrand is already at the dresser, polishing the tin's grey half with her thumb until the bone-coloured skull shines like a new coin.