Short Story #19
Tattoos tell stories of love, war, courage, pain, and faith. So when Marilyn discovered the tattoos on her boyfriend’s lower back as he lay on the bed motionlessly and shirtless, she smiles at the discovery and traces a curious finger over the ink. Jean-Pierre Papin flinches slightly at the contact which she dismissed as an automatic reflex.
The tattoos were names and she smiles thinking that they were perhaps names of friends or relatives as she counts the small cursive names: five in total.
“Pierre?” she called out.
The Frenchman grunts knowing what was coming next. “Hmm?”
“What are these names?”
“They’re the names of my enemies.”
She gasps and pulls her hand back as if burned by a wicked fire. “Why put those names there then?”
“They’ve done me wrong at some point in life.”
“But it doesn’t make any sense.”
Why do things always have to make sense to a woman? Jean thought before coldly confessing, “I killed them.”
A thick eerie silence blanketed the room leaving Marilyn immobilized.