[ WP ] You can erase a memory if you get a tattoo of the memory on your body . A man discovered deep in the woods is found murdered and covered in tattoos . Tell his tale until death through his tattoos .

The crisp autumn air bit at her skin, and she wished for the thousandth time that she'd brought her scarf and earmuffs. There was n't anything she could do about it, now; she was coming around the bend of the trail that marked the halfway point, so she might as well finish her walk and just get it over with. Her dog was twenty or so feet in front of her, trotting from one side of the path to the other, sniffing at the trees and underbrush. He was n't effected by the cold. 
 
 A gust of wind came up from behind her; shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and gritted her teeth. She really, really hated the cold. `` I need to move somewhere warmer,'' she groused out loud, scowling at the puff of breath that hung in front of her. Her dog pricked his ears but continued to sniff. `` You find something, Comet?'' 
 
 The dog turned at the sound of his name, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. She smiled, blowing him a kiss before he turned back around and bolted off of the path. `` Shit, Comet! Get back here!'' 
 
 She took off after him, hopping over twisted tree roots and ducking under spider webs. He was faster than she was, even stopping to sniff every so often. It was difficult to keep up. `` Comet! C'mon, buddy, please! I'll give you a treat!'' Suddenly, the dog stopped, about forty yards away in front of her. She sighed, relieved, continuing to call for him even as she got closer.'What could he possibly have found,' she wondered, craning her neck to see. 
 
 That's when the stench hit her. It smelled like something was rotting in it's own defecation. Dread flooded her. `` Comet, get away from there!'' Her voice was higher than normal, which made Comet look over his shoulder at her before focusing back on whatever dead thing was in front of him. She started to hurry again. 
 
 When she caught sight of the body, she stopped dead in her tracks. It looked like a man laying face down on the ground, naked from the waist up. His skin was covered in tattoos, more covered than anyone else she'd ever seen before. She had a few tattoos herself, each with their own painful story: her first, a bottle of jack, she'd gotten when she was eighteen, the year after her father'd died. He had been an alcoholic, Jack was his favorite. She could n't remember why she'd gotten the tattoo, but sometimes looking at it made her uneasy. 
 
 But this man had too many for her to count. There seemed to be no rhyme nor reason to them, and some where so large that they encompassed others. She could see that the tattoos continued around his torso, but she had no desire to see what they were. The once she saw were too much as it was. 
 
 The first one that caught her eye was a stack of money, blood splattered across the face on the front. She had no idea why anyone would want a tattoo like that. Just above that was a tattoo of a little boy's face, covered in bruises and cuts. She had to avert her eyes for several moments. 
 
 She knew she should call for help, but she had no bars this deep in the woods. Besides that, she felt too sick to move. She sank down to her knees, her breath coming in short bursts as the stench and sight overwhelmed her. After several long minutes, she looked back at the body, at the tattoos. 
 
 A handgun was next to the boy's head. She did n't know how she'd missed it before, but now that she had she could n't unsee it. Had this man killed a child? Nausea overwhelmed her and she had to suppress vomit. What kind of monster - 
 
 Another tattoo caught her eye. The largest piece on his back, which encompassed the child's head. It looked to her like an open birdcage. There was no bird inside, nor anywhere else on his back. She wondered what it meant. She wondered how he'd gotten out here, after she'd just seen him at the meeting the day before.
