Jamie and his 3 friends finally made it. After sneaking around for about an hour at night, they were able to reach the ancient tattoo parlor. The parlor had displayed the sign “Closed” for years. Looking through the window, the inside had, to say the least, seen better days. There with a dusty rotten leather chair next to a moldy desk with corroded metal needles. A lightbulb was hanging from the ceiling, with a single decayed wire keeping from shattering on the floor. One of his friends had brought a crowbar and plied the door open from its rusted hinges. The door fell and the group entered. There was a foul smell everywhere, comparable with the smell of the homeless people they raided that lived under the bridge. The air was damp, and the floor was nonexistent from all the mold. There was a huge patch of mildew on the part of the door they couldn’t see behind the window. They went to one of desks for tattooing. They found a photo, some tattoo equipment, and a book. First, they grabbed the photo. It was a photo of a man hugging a girl, presumably his daughter. Next, they checked out the tattoo equipment. They took some of the needles, disinfectants, and silver and copper tools. Finally, they came to the book. Jamie attempted to open the book, but there was a lock on it. So, he asked one of his friends to open the lock. His friend got a paperclip from his backpack and was about to pick lock it when there was an indiscernible voice outside. The group ducked behind the desk waiting for the figure to pass. But the figure didn’t pass. Instead, it entered! Jamie peered at the figure, the figure wielding a knife. Jamie started to panic, trying to find a way out. Jamie looked over one more time, only to find the figure looking at them!