Gemotions

The audacity of it made her teeth ache. Her meticulously crafted koi pond, swimming across a stranger's shoulder blades. She tracked down the tattoo artist, a shady character operating out of a back alley studio.

"I need a favor," she'd said, her voice smooth and carefully neutral. The artist, a greasy man with a gold tooth, listened, a smirk playing on his lips.

Months later, a very different piece of art adorned the stranger's skin, one that incorporated the original koi pond into a monstrous, grotesque scene. She had orchestrated it meticulously, anonymous notes, cryptic phone calls. The satisfaction, a cold and delicious thing, washed over her in waves.