The Tattoo Artist - PAPERBACK ON AMAZON!

Chapter One | 'Don't hate the player, hate the game'

A L E X A N D R A | J O N E S

Author

THIS BOOK IS CONFUSING BECAUSE YOU ARE BASICALLY SORTING OUT A PUZZLE with the main character. Whatever she finds out, you find out at the same time. You have to pick up on important clues! GOOD LUCK!

I saw him.

I saw Diávolos.

And he saw me.

His eyes met mine, and I knew that day that I would never forget them. He noticed me peering out my bedroom window, but I couldn't see his face. But it was the colour of his eyes that captivated me.

I was only sixteen years old then.

But I never saw him again after that. He never came by, and I sat by my window all day and night for the next two years. It's almost as though he passed away. That's the only answer because no one has heard of Diávolos since his eyes met with mine. Did I scare him?

Pfft. No one scares him. He's the devil himself.

Not like anyone knew anything about him. No face. No identity. Just a killer. 

He was fond of blood though, he enjoyed watching others suffer. I knew it about him because when his gaze locked on mine that one night, I watched him stab a man in the heart with a knife. And I'm not sure why the younger version of myself didn't suffer nightmares. Not a single one.

He thought I would hide maybe. I didn't hide. But I remember that tattoo on his hand. Oh, I remember it as clear as day. I could tell it had some significant meaning to it, because on every man he kills, he prints the same tattoo on their body. A sign of death?

⚔

Two swords clashing against one another. As if-and if i am correct, he had a fight with both sides. Evil and good. I do not know why that struck to me and not the rest of him, it was all hidden in dark clothing. 

I had an obsession with him. Like i have an obsession with Marvel, he was my obsession. Normally in book, the main character never has an obsession with the love interest. This time, I have the obsession.

I should be scared of him, I should be frightened for my life. That's what a normal persons reaction would be. 

As I grew older, my mother told me stories about Diávolos, how he preyed on innocent girls like myself. I know she was saying that rubbish to scare me into staying at home more often and not going out, it did not work. I am not that stupid. 

But now, at the age of eighteen, I sat by the window with a canvas and paint brushes. I always sketch half naked, with only my favourite underpants and headphones in my ears. You can call it weird, but I however enjoy it. It helped me focus, and it a given fact that drawing half naked enhances your technique on the canvas is a given.

I drew the alley way in front of my window, and I drew Diávolos. I drew him the same way I saw him, a shadow in the night sky. With a blaring knife and that silly tattoo of his, I tried searching it up. But every time I did my website would crash down. I sketch the lamppost, all in dark colours. The only light colour i used was for his eyes.

Green.

This green, the green you thought you would never see. His eyes were the vivid, strong, and lovely green that speaks to the soul of nature, of fresh wands of grass and young buds.

I tuck the paintbrush into my ears and let the paint run into my hair. As I opened a new can, some splashed across my chest. I did not have any clothing to get dirty, so maybe being partly naked is also a good thing along with my favourite Marvel underwear.