They Tattooed Evil on Me. It Came Back for Them.

Chapter 2

The next morning, when I woke up, my phone was almost dead.

Dozens of messages were all asking what had happened last night.

At the very top was a screenshot of a social media post.

Briar was sitting in an occult tattoo parlor, her sleeves rolled up to her shoulders.

She had a fresh tattoo of a cocker spaniel on her arm.

Atlas sat beside her, head lowered as he helped her pick a design.

Caption: Someone chickened out at the last minute, so I had to step in. Too bad someone loves me too much. He absolutely refused to let me get an occult tattoo. So I had to settle for something ordinary instead.

All the comments below praised Briar for being loyal and called me a poor sport.

I paused, then continued scrolling, and soon came across a video.

The footage suddenly cut to a dimly lit room.

A woman was being held down in a chair.

Her hair was disheveled, face bruised.

It lasted only two seconds.

Yet I recognised her at a glance.

My mother.

My face drained of colour instantly. I froze on the spot as my phone slipped from my hand onto the quilt.

I picked it up again and dragged the progress bar back.

I dragged it back again.

No matter how many times I replayed it, it was always her.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. Hands trembling, I clutched my phone and called Atlas.

It rang three times before being disconnected.

I called again.

No one answered.

A few minutes later, he sent a message.

Atlas: I'm busy. We'll talk tonight.

I felt like I'd grabbed a lifeline and was just about to reply when a new social media post popped up.

Briar was leaning back on the sofa in my home.

A white jade pendant hung around her neck.

She was also twirling a pocket watch in her hand.

That piece of jade was something my mother had left behind.

The pocket watch was my father's.

I shot to my feet, my knee slamming directly into the edge of the bed.

It hurt badly, but this time I had no time to worry about the pain.

After they went missing, I always kept these things locked in a cabinet.

Atlas knew where the key was kept.

I took a cab and rushed home.

Seven or eight people were sitting in the living room.

Most of the group from yesterday's private booth had shown up.

My parents' belongings were spread out on the table.

Someone was waving my father's old fountain pen around.

Briar was wearing my mother's jade pendant, twirling in front of the mirror while caressing it obsessively, saying it wasn't anything special.

My eyes burning with anger, I strode over and yanked the jade off her neck.

"Are you crazy?!"

Briar yelped, her eyes instantly reddening.

I clenched the jade in my fist and asked with red‑rimmed eyes, "Who said you could touch this?"

"We just took the stuff out to look at it. Why are you losing your temper again the moment you get back?"

My voice trembling, I pointed at the table. "These were left behind by my parents."

"I know," Briar said. "She only wore it for a while. It's not like she took it. You're being way too petty."

Her eyes reddening, she continued, "Elara, that's enough. They're just a few old things. It's not like anyone would lose them."

Atlas snapped, grabbing my arm and threatening me fiercely.

I stared at him, my heart full of disappointment.

He had clearly promised me before that no one would ever touch them.

I packed the last item away, turned around, and went into the bedroom to get a suitcase.

Atlas followed me in.

Seeing me pack my clothes, he slapped his hand against the wardrobe door to hold it shut. "What are you doing now? Wasn't making a scene yesterday enough for you?"

I ignored him.

There wasn't much I needed to take. I'd pack as many clothes as I could fit; I didn't want the rest anymore.