As the door to the tattoo parlour swung shut behind Jack, a heady mix of inks, disinfectant, and anticipation filled his lungs. An array of framed designs adorned the walls, their vibrant colours serving as a stark contrast to his fears.
“Are you ready, mate?” asked Dex, the professional tattooist based near the Brisbane CBD who was going to handle Jack’s tattoo removal. Dex was a burly man with inked sleeves, his weathered face making him look like a seasoned sailor. His workstation, however, was a landscape of sterile steel, plastic and glass – the battlefield where Jack’s unwanted tattoo was about to meet its demise.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack said with a nod, trying to ignore the foreboding knot in his stomach.
As the first zap of the laser tattoo removal device hit his skin, Jack’s vision blurred, and he found himself standing in a bustling city square, the air filled with the hum of technology beyond his understanding. Images rushed at him: vast, alien landscapes; battles that stretched across time and space; faces he knew but couldn’t remember.
“What on earth is happening to me?” he whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. His mind swirled, struggling to make sense of the images. Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him: he was a time traveller. The notion seemed absurd, yet the fragmented memories felt real, tangible. But why couldn’t he remember it fully? Was his mind playing tricks on him, or was there a part of his life he had somehow lost?
The connection between his time-travelling self and the cryptic tattoo became more apparent. It wasn’t just an ordinary tattoo; it was an encrypted message from his past – or future – self. But what did it mean?
Despite the swirling confusion and uncertainty, one thing was crystal clear to Jack. The tattoo had to go. As much as it seemed to connect him to a forgotten past, it also brought a sense of danger, of unsettling incompleteness.
He steeled himself, taking a deep breath. His journey of tattoo removal – and self-discovery – was only just beginning.