Darkest Black Ink For Tattoos Novels & Stories

"Do it." Nobody spoke. Gunner slowly walked out of the room and returned three minutes later with the heavy black case that held the club's tattoo equipment. He set it on the table without looking me in the eye. I sat in the wooden chair. Justin plugged the machine in. The sharp buzz filled the silent room. Justin stood in front of me, his hands shaking slightly as he held the gun, the needle dripping with the permanent black ink. He looked at my chest, at the Reaper crest I had worn with pride since I was twenty years old.

The black ink of the brand, saturated with Zilo’s ancient vampire essence, didn't just resist the Fae energy; it snarled. The two forces—one born of the sunless depths of the vampire covens, the other of the wild, unbridled starlight of the Fae—clashed within her sternum. It felt like her ribs were being turned into white-hot iron. The black ink began to boil, swirling into a miniature hurricane of dark ichor that fought to contain the sapphire brilliance of the stone. "Let go, Sofia! You’re going to blow us all to hell!" Zack groaned from the floor, his body still twitching from the previous psychic shock.

God, it makes me hard just thinking about it! I paint the scene in my mind as I layer browns and oranges and fleshtones in artful strokes, using black and blue and white and gray for the leather and shadows. I take swigs of the whisky and drags of my cigarette as the figures take form and my round, fleshy ass pops out of the canvas as if you could grab it. It could be anyone. Only I know who the image depicts and that is why I work on the tattoos, adding the element that makes it most telling who is the bottom in this scene.

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

Just what I need! I would have immediately assumed that he had followed me here to confront me, had he not had company. Shady- looking, crepy as hell company. Mr Blackwood was slanting into the counter by the bar, a glass of whisky in his hand. He looked ragged, like a white- collar psychopath in those work slacks and untucked shirt which was almost unbuttoned all the way. He looked really pissed and to be in a murderous mood, but he had nothing on the villainous hunk next to him. The man was large, his bulging muscles were out of this world frightening, both his arms were covered in tattoos, so was the back of his bald head.. the most notable tattoo was one of a black widow which extended f

Well, at least I finally got something I can do as a mage, right? Water splintered like glistening crystals as I turned and followed the rhythm with precision. I closed my eyes as I continued on my track, there was another smooth splash. Once again, I turned and leaped a little, then faced the audience and opened my eyes. I thought I'd see my expectants watching me in awe. But to my surprise, my line of vision was directed to a pair of unfamiliar pitch black eyes, the darkest shade of black I've ever seen in my whole life.

I wasn't sure whether it was cooking or spell-casting, but she seemed fairly busy with it. I pulled my right sleeve back and exposed my inner forearm. I already had two other marks there, one a circle, the other a square with runes and other symbols in them. I cleaned a bare area with rubbing alcohol then applied a bit of ointment. I twisted off the lid to the ink. I could smell the musky metallic scent of it. It was some creature's blood mixed with metal to help the tattoo settle. I dipped the needles in the ink then stabbed myself in the arm repeatedly.

see you both together!” She added. “Ink walked round and clapped Alex on the back “anything you want to tell me brother?” He asked. His eyes twinkled, like he knew exactly what he was going to say. “I’m claiming Bella, she’s my girl, she’s my Old Lady. I love her, and she has just moved in with me.” He explained, pride showing in his face. Tina squealed. “What wonderful news! Congratulations you two!” “Thank you, T, Bella doesn’t want to wear a cut, can you tattoo her please Prez?” “Sure, where are you thinking?” “I want it on the inside of my arm, running down to my wrist. Is that ok?” I looked to Alex for his approval. “Perfect baby, everyone will see that.” He smiled down at me. I loved

The runes ignited, threads of light weaving up her arms and into the Mark. The air thickened. The ground trembled. And from the shadows at the edge of the room, something stirred — not an Echo, but something worse. Figures began to form — twisted silhouettes of men and beasts, remnants of those the Black Moon had touched. They moved like smoke and screamed like memory. Zevran’s blade flashed. “Here we go again.” He fought without hesitation, cutting through shadows that reformed as fast as he struck them. Each one that fell fed the light around Kaelira’s spell, fueling her strength.

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE