[ WP ] Tattoos give you power , but always take something away . You have just gotten your first one , and the results are ... surprising .

My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I pull up to the tattoo parlor. A hand-painted sign with the words, `` Flemeth's'' surrounded by flowering vines hung inside the window. Something in the engine of my faded yellow Gremlin coughed sadly as I shut it off. The damn thing is always falling apart on me, but it was cheap, and I'm not exactly rich. 
 
 *I should n't be doing this. * I thought to myself for the hundreth time as I swung my boots out onto the hot asphalt. My parents did n't approve. Tattoos were more than just ink, after all and they never went away. 
 
 I was n't sure if I believed in the `` special powers'' that they could supposedly grant you, but the idea was tempting. And if it did n't work, I would still have to tattoo, so I figured, what's there to lose? 
 
 Still, I paused on the threshold. Once that needle set into my skin, there was no going back. And if the rumors were true... 
 
 I steeled my nerves and pushed the door open, perhaps a bit more forcibly than is stricly necessary. A bell in the door frame chimed merrily above my head. 
 
 Somehow, it sounded sinister. I put the thought aside and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. *Come on, Sam. Quit being a wuss. * 
 
 It hurt like hell, but it was worth it. After several sessions, it was finally complete: an image of a wolf prowling through a forest was permanently inked into my bicep. 
 
 The detail was amazing. The more you looked at it, the more you saw. Its eyes were green; the same color as my eyes, a detail I did n't expect them to work in. The wolf's fur was the same chocolate-brown color as my hair. 
 
 The last session had been more than a month ago. Somehow, that last session had felt different from the rest, and ever since... I swear something changed inside of me. 
 
 My family was worried about me. My sister said that I was distant, restless. 
 
 She was right. I felt trapped. I wanted out. 
 
 I drove the Gremlin past the city limits, all the way out into the mountains. The engine was coughing and clunking by the end, but I did n't care. I could n't stand to drive it anymore, and not just because it was a smoking scrap heap. It was a tiny box of metal and I hated it. I did n't want it anymore. Did n't want any of it anymore, really. 
 
 The city was a massive cage. I wanted to be free. 
 
 The engine died on its own as I pulled off on an empty stretch of gravel road. It did n't matter. I would n't be needing it anymore. 
 
 I walked to the edge of the woods and slipped my shoes and socks off, bunching my toes up in the grass. The warm earth felt amazing beneath my feet. I started off at a leisurely pace, which quickly turned into a brisk jog. Soon I was all-out sprinting, ducking and weaving between the trees. 
 
 As I ran, I started to change. My bones ground and popped painfully, making me stumble. My clothes itched against my skin, and I tore them away without a second thought. My arms lengthened, my fingers shortened, my nails grew. 
 
 It hurt worse than the tattoo ever did, but I did n't give a damn. 
 
 I finally had the freedom I'd been craving.
