Short horror stories

New ink

   There was a very small tattoo shop that was run by a woman who very much enjoyed tattoos. She'd often tattoo her own skin, wanting to tell her stories on her skin. She loved putting her art on people. It made her feel pride that they came to her to get her art on their bodies forever. This quickly made her pride grow into something a little different.
  She would often take pictures of her work. It wasn't too strange since many other tattoo artists did this as well. She just loved looking at her work. The more she would tattoo people, the more attached she would get to her work. Sometimes she could barley stand seeing her works of art walking out of the door.
  One faithful day, a tall, muscular man entered the tiny shop. He already had multiple tattoos on his body. They were all very intimidating, like having guns and threatening phrases. He approached her and slammed a picture onto her desk.
  "I want some ink. Can you do this?" He said in a deep voice.
  The picture was of a knife that had the word "murder" engraved into it, along with blood splatter. She was a bit surprised to see this. Guys like him weren't her usual customers. She preferred putting actual art on people instead of nonsense like that.
  "Why are you just sitting there, bitch? Are you going to ink me or not?" He said, growing frustrated.
  She didn't know how to say no, so she reluctantly agreed. It definitely wasn't her idea of a quality tattoo, but she didn't want to take the risk. If this big, tough guy wanted that knife tattoo, then he was gonna get it.
  She started getting the ink ready as he waited in the chair. As she was doing this, he continued to shout more profanities at her. She grew more and more angry at the clearly drunken man. She felt herself begin to sweat as he continued to shout.
  "I'll be right back, sir. I need to grab something real quick then we'll get started," she stated suddenly.
  "Hurry up, bitch"
  She quickly made her way to the bathroom. She reached into one of the cabinets and pulled out a strange substance before quickly getting back to preparing the ink.
  "Are you ready, sir?"
                              ...
  After the tattoo session, the man left. She stood at the door, watching as he walked off into the night. He suddenly began to lose his balance before collapsing to the ground. He suddenly screamed in agony as blood and ink poured from the tattoo. It was now unrecognizable as he clutched the tattoo in pain. She stood watching at the door.
  "What the hell did you do?" He screamed. She said nothing as she stared at him blankly. He rolled helplessly on the ground watching more and more blood coming from the wound. It was no longer a tattoo, it was just a mess of blood and ink all over his arm, spreading to the ground. It formed a puddle around him. After a few more minutes of agonizing pain, he finally grew silent. She then closed the door and turned off the lights, leaving him alone in the darkness.