Cute Simple Ghost Tattoo Flash Novels & Stories

There, just like his brother and Taryk sported, was a new tattoo etching itself into his skin. Rushing over to Lukas, I reached down with one hand to steady myself against him as I leaned down to inspect Scarlet's upper chest. Instead of the heavy black lines that marked the guys, hers was almost delicate. Done in silvers and whites, it reminded me of an acid etched mirror. Her skin just happened to be the canvas. I looked over the room. Swallowed as something dawned on me. "Lukas, why are we the only ones who aren't still passed out?"

A tattoo—small but intricate—etched just below my skin. The infinity symbol, its delicate lines looping and intertwining seamlessly, radiated a sense of endless continuity. It was beautiful but haunting. A chill ran down my spine as I lightly traced the design with my fingers. My skin tingled at the touch, as if the mark carried some latent energy.

Adam lamented. “I’m just wondering if maybe we should get him inside and bolt the door. This might not be the safest place for him after all. She’s getting a might closer and some of those zombie spirits look like they’re coming back to life in a not too friendly way.” He studied the spirits who were once so animated but were now acting dazed and confused. A few of them were losing that dazed look. It was being replaced by one of intelligence and… Anger? Hate? He couldn’t tell.

Giovanni turned his back on me, my eyes were on the giant snake coloured tattoo that covered his whole back, I was still staring at the tattoo before he disappeared into a closed door. I settled back, eyes closed, palms resting on the table, and let my mind wander to Giovanni's canvas of tattoos. The intricate snake on his left neck caught my attention first – its delicate scales seeming to slither across his skin. My gaze, though imaginary, traced the vibrant, full-back serpent, its red and black hues dancing in mesmerizing harmony. Next, my mental focus shifted to the cobwebs delicately etched onto his broad neck, their subtle complexity a testament to the artist's skill. The bold, cursive

Caius tipped his head to the side, eying me in a way that made me feel even more underdressed than I currently was. “We call him Ghost because of how quickly he kills.” The nightclub sat on the corner of a busy street, making it difficult to place a car to stakeout the place. A line full of people wrapped around the side of the building, trailing off past a liquor store and a few closed shops.

Like an electric static on my skin, a sharp tingling that doesn’t belong. Opening my eyes, I break the kiss with Kian and look at him, confused. His tattoos are moving wildly. I pull back, glancing at Malix, and then at Frost. All three of them go still, their gazes locked on me. Their tattoos—the black marks that show the shadows beneath their skin—are going crazy. Spirals and swirls and spikes wave like flags in hurricane winds. Then, as I watch, mesmerized by the display, the shadows begin to crawl off their bodies… and onto mine.

As the echoes of the final note fade away, the tension between us still lingers, floating in the air. Our eyes clash and a myriad of emotions flit across Ash's face. I'm quite sure mine is a bare canvas, but I'm distracted by the appearance of a flash of white to my left. I turn to look, but instead, I'm met with a smiling apparition. My mouth goes dry and my heart thunders in my chest as the ghost floats toward me. "Tanya?"

He stood straight with a serious face as he began his explanation. "Ghosts are the souls of dead humans who... well, aren't ready to rest in peace. They don't have powers. All they can do is move from one place to another without being seen. Well, not by everyone though." "But... if you're a demon, why then are you in this form?" She couldn't help but ask.

Smiling, I nod my head again, accepting the damn challenge. "No nickname, got it." I smile taking in her features as my eyes trail down her body. She's on the tall side, with a rocking' rack. Her hair is dark, skin pale, but her eyes are bright green. It's an interesting combination and I feel myself wondering more about her. "I'm Ghost." "Ghost? Like. Casper the friendly?" "The very one." Watching as she shrugs. Robin turns around looking at he bar, noticing every patron is being helped then turns back towards me, leaning on the bar top giving me a peek inside her blue polo shirt. "So, why are you in a need of alcohol?"

It was the movement of a shadow detached from its source, a predator that had forgotten the limitations of bone and muscle. As he stood, the mud didn't cling to him; it seemed to recoil, as if the very earth was afraid of the cold that now radiated from his skin. The violet light in his eyes wasn't a flicker of life; it was a steady, lethal glow that seemed to eat the surrounding dimness. The new Void-Wolf mark on his chest was pulsing with a black, oily ink that writhed under his skin, seeking something to consume. It looked less like a tattoo and more like a wound that refused to heal. "Dante?" I whispered. My voice was a shredded thread, barely audible over the hum of the dying refinery.