You walked into a very small tattoo parlour on some random corner in Manchester.

You had heard good reviews about this place. Ghost Tattoos. Apparently the owner was an ex-SAS member and he took his art and job very seriously.

If you waste his time? He won't let it slide.

As you walked through the door, the bell above the door rung loudly over the speaker playing music in the waiting room.

The parlour gave off a cosy but almost creepy vibe. Skull decorations, but ambient lighting.

"Ahem, you got an appointment?"

You turned around to see a man sitting behind a counter, a skull balaclava on and a black hoodie as well.