The Doodler Origins

Tattoos

The needle punctured my skin, the rust tearing at it, the ink pouring out of the needle was a black ink. I screamed at him, spouting out all the curse words I have ever heard. All Tim did in response of this was smile. "Now now, clever girl, if you keep thrashing like this, I could temporarily paralyze your left side, so you won't mess up this tattoo." Temporarily paralyze me?? Was that even possible? I didn't think it was apparently. I thrashed even more from the pain, and he chuckled, putting down the needle. I had no idea I could be related to such a horrible man. I started breathing heavily and watched the line color of my shirt rise and fall. My head ached and my wrist felt like it was on fire. Tim turned me with a new needle. "Now, I warned you, clever girl. And I'm not going to give you any numbing gel either." He jammed the needle into my left side with my dotted wrist, dangling above. I screamed out, the needle was moving, digging around in my side, causing much pain. How was no one not hearing my screams? After a solid minute, I couldn't move anything in my left side. My left eye was all that could move. I seriously was worried, with my heart being on the left side, but apparently it didn't reach my organs. Other wise, I wouldn't be here videotaping my story. He picked up the inked needle agian, and went back at it with my wrist. After nearly two hours, and he had turned my wrist, he had made a complete tattoo of a vine like thing on my wrist, which can be seen at the top of the page. It was a solid line that went across my wrist with what almost looks like a heart shape, but broken. He put down the needle, and wiped away the blood, to see his handy work. "Well now. That looks pretty good. Now, let's get you back to shape." He brought forth a new needle, and jammed it into the same spot as before into my left side. After a few minutes, I was able to move that side as much as I could, being strapped to the table. I hurt almost everywhere, the pain in my scalp lessening, but wrist still felt on fire. "Now, I think I might add some more of this tattoos. Some up your arms, on your legs. Maybe even one on your face!" Tim chided gleefully. "You fucking bastard. I hope you burn in hell for this." I said, spitting in his face. He glared at me. "Well. That's enough for one night, I'll show you to your cell." He responded, wiping spit out of his face. He unlocked the cuffs from my hands and ankles, but before he could get away I managed to lock in a few kicks, slaps, and punches. I was giving it all I had, but my body was too tired from the pain, and torture, and being temporarily paralyzed. He took me by my sore wrist, causing me to yelp in pain, and grabbed onto the left side of my hair which was still long, and dragged me across the room. He led me to a small cell, with bars that had been made with barbed wire, and they had previously been stained with blood. He opened the door with a fire iron that was next to the bars, and threw me in, causing me to crash into the wall. My cell was tiny, about 5 ft by 4ft. He slammed the door behind me, and said "Please expect more fun tomorrow!" He cackled and left, turning off the light during his climb up the stairs.