The Happy Tattoo Parlor

The Place

Somewhere deep in The Emerald City of Washington State, there is what is called "The Devil's Hole." It leads to the deepest cavern, in the deepest part of the known world. Yet, no one has ever traversed it. No one has ever found it. The fae have hidden—out of sight and out of mind. It is a portal to their world, and they will do anything to hide it from humans.

You have to be invited to see it.

The Fae

They are said to be tiny human-like creatures that glow in the dark, but in reality they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Some look like the elements air, water, fire, and earth. Others look like chimeras. However, the most common ones, the ones we see that we never take notice of—are the ones that look like us.

Prologue

There is an alley that is hidden away deep in the recesses of Seattle Washington. Down the alley is an old tattoo parlor. They say it is older than the city itself—The Emerald City. Above the door is a sign, a flourescent sign. It glows a haunting green in the darkness of the alleyway. It reads "enter."

The parlor is not open to everyone. It is by invitation only. The following is a recount of a witness who received such an invetation.

The Witness

It was one of those cold days in late October. The kind that sends rain down sideways and hits you under your hoody (or umbrella).

I had been working down at Pikes Places Market in a musty old bookstore called Finnigin's. It is right on the corner across from where those guys throw fish at each other (if you are ever in town you should stop by to see it, they put on quite the show).

Anyway, Finnigin's was my sanctuary from the rest of the city. It was one of the few places that I felt safe. I could sit and read books all day and not get in trouble for it like at other jobs. It was my holy domain until that fateful day.

On this particular October evening, a man who called himself Bast, walked through the front door. Bast was one of those guys that had a shaved head and tattoos all over. He looked like your regular street walker, but he wasn't. He was after something, or someone. Me.

I remember when he entered the door and the bell dinged, I felt a sudden chill run down my spine. I was reading The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami when he entered. My reading tastes were like a premonition for what was to come. (Down the rabbit hole as the saying goes).

The man walked up to me and laid down a business card that read "Bast" on the front. He flipped it over and on the back and there was an address listed on North Pacific. Below the address, in fine Old English scrawl, it read "The Happy Tattoo Parlor."

"See you there," was all he said to me before he turned and left Finnigin's.

I had hoped I would never see him again, but that was not the case. I had showed my coworker Tom the card and he was astounded that I was invited. He had never known anyone who was ever invited to The Happy Tattoo Parlor.

Anyway, I decided to check it out after work. I took the eleven bus up nine blocks to North Pacific. I walked up the street to where the address was located. However, the numbers had skipped from one building to the next. I went to where the address should have been, and I was staring directly down a dark alley. It must have been the most lightless alley I had ever seen. I peered down to see if I could see anything—but nothing.

Then I saw it, a faint flicker of a glow. I walked slowly down the alley towards the glow. As I got closer to it, the sounds of the city started to dissipate and the light became less and less. It was surely strange, even the echo of my healed shoes on the pavement dissapeared.

As I came closer to the sign I could read what it said. It was a hauntingly green neon sign that read "enter." I looked back and could see the city going back and forth outside the alleyway, yet my curiosity overrided my senses. I turned back towards the sign which hung over a set of wet steps that went down into the concrete. I couldnt see the bottom of the steps, and I wasn't too sure how far down it was.

However, the descent wasnt as far as I thought. I hit the floor quickly and before me was an old stygian door with candle holders on both sides of it. An arched sign hung over the frame that had the words "The Happy Tattoo Parlor" scrawled into it in old english.

My heart started to beat quickly. I raised a fist to knock, but slowed myself. I thought of a thousand horrors that lay behind that door; every horror movie I had ever seen melted into one moment. Then. I knocked.

At first nothing happened. I stood in the silence with the two burning candles at both my sides. It seemed like an eternity. Then, I decided to count five breathes, and suddenly the door oepened. It creaked loudly, like forks grating against an old chalkboard. And, the man named Bast was standing before me. His dark eyes didnt betray any emotion. They looked more like dark oceans that I could fall into. He stepped back and held out an arm, ushering me in.

I said a "hello" to him, but he didn't say anything back. He just waited for me to enter.

The inside was like no tattoo shop I had ever been in. It was a spherical brick room with a domed ceiling that had a mural of what could only be some war. On one side of the war were humans and then on the other side were creatures that looked like satyrs, centaurs, chimeras, and such.

Bast ushered me into an old leather barber's chair. Next to it was a small wooden table with a tattoo gun and a bowl with what I assumed was black ink (yet the stuff looked more like blood). He smiled a very inviting smile; one that compelled me in a way that I could never describe to another human being.

I sat down into the chair which faced directly up at the mural. I had a complete view of the mural from this position. And, I saw something there that I had not seen my first look: the humans all had these horrible-looking shadow creatures behind them, pulling the humans like they were puppets. And, the side with the satyrs, and the centraurs, they all looked noble, and proceeded from a burst of light.

I was so caught up in the image that I failed to hear the hum of the gun. Then, I felt a needle tickle the top of my skin.

I almost leapt out of my seat until Bast made a shushing sound. I felt like a baby being rocked in a cradle back to sleep. The mural swirled over my head, and I fell, deep somewhere into the abyss.

***

I don't remember ever coming home from the tattoo parlor. But my dreams of late have been terrifying. I have also been seeing a shadow figure in the halls of my apartment. Whatever is there, it is watching me, and only me.

Last night, I woke up in a cold sweat to find the police outside my building. One of the tenants had thrown themself off the top floor. Moments after that, an elderly man drowned his wife in the bathtub. Somewhere down the street, cats ate a stray dog.

The worlds seemed to be falling apart all around me.

Or maybe, just maybe, it has always been this way. And, the eye tattoo I recieved at The Happy Tattoo Parlor, has helped me to see the world as it truly is.

Insane.

Bast

A molevolent fae of chaotic-evil alignment. He tattoos different glyphs on his prey for his delight and to their torture. He is considered a denizen of the abyss, and should be approached with extreme caution. A roll of 16 or better is needed to defeat this foe.

HP 140 AC +10