Death Moth Throat Tattoo Novels & Stories

There are rumors of them carving an hourglass into the flesh of their enemies and I want to believe its just a myth. There was also a skull with little flies buzzing around it between the reaper's hands. Didn’t have to guess what that meant. Some Flyers get their logo tattooed on their chest and others on their back. My dad’s was on his back but I knew Missile’s for example was on his chest. I had no clue if one had a different significance than the other but I was curious. For whatever reason I felt like it was a very personal question, one I would have to wait to find out. I damn sure wasn’t going to ask where Punch got his. “Here,” he shouts, holding out the paper and stopping abruptly, I

"Y—You actually possess such immense, divine power!" My lips curl into a mocking smirk as the completely shredded remains of my shirt fall away from my upper body, revealing my heavily muscled, bare physique to the entire room. A dark, terrifyingly majestic tattoo of a black dragon with glowing red eyes is coiled tightly across my chest, its primal design incredibly vivid and lifelike against my skin.

What we’ll do, I don’t know. I kneel upright, eyes glossing over the neat and intentional tattoos on his back. I take in his muscles and toned back. I have a feeling nothing’s going to feel soft. But back to the tattoos. There’s something written in a foreign language right in the middle of his back—the spinous whatever. Above it is a maze. A figure walks in the path, but there seems to be no way out of the maze. On the side of his ribs: ‘The way to the heart is a path full of thorns’

“Skulls and bones signify death. Knives and waves signify the medium of death. Waves in the sense that the person died by drowning. Knives in the sense that the person died by stabbing or some other way.” “Sia mentioned that he tried committing suicide at some point.” “There you have it.” “Why am I seeing these things? Is it normal to see these things?” “For hellhounds, yes. The tattoos tell you how many times one has escaped death.” “And this information is needed because?” “If the tattoos have reached a certain number, it means that the individual in question is tired of life. And we, because we’re so merciful, we end their life for good,” he explained.

"Affirmative." A man in dark blue wash jeans, a brown leather jacket, a white t-shirts and black boots, walked up to the car and yanked the door open to see a woman hanging upsidedown, unconscious. His brown hair was cut short, showing of the red rose tattoos on the side of his neck. Though what really caught the eyes of everyone else that day was the death symbol tattooed on the back of his head. A skull and two bones forming a cross with fire burning through them.

He had already put that factor in his gun to change the needles with every dose. “Now we wait” Takashi said. And it didn’t take long before the first guy was foaming at the mouth, the second guy turned pale, then blue and he looked bloated. The third guy jerked uncontrollably in his seat and just seized movement. The fourth just simply breathed his last. A peaceful death compared to all the rest. And the last guy released a screech trying to get free, and the screech died down and so did he. “A wonderful presentation”.

The idea of being in Kade Nightshade’s debt pissed me off. “Thankfully,” Nico continued, “he Shifted back before he finally died. The other dead died as wolves, so we couldn’t get anything from them.” “What did you get from him?” I asked. He crouched down and turned the body slightly. He pointed at his chest. “Do you see that?” I frowned and crouched, too. I stared at the chest, not seeing much due to the blood that coated him. Eventually, I made out a shape tattooed on his body in silver ink. It was a crescent moon dripping with blood. “What’s that?”

“The Raven. Known as the harbinger of death. Marked in her rebirth, granting ultimate authority within her title. And yet, in all her glory, eventually came to a slow, excruciating end. One where she, despite her best efforts, was unable to prevent the death of our lineage.” “…No…,” I whispered. But she was right. I could keep lying to myself, keep refusing to look… but there was certainly more than just a raven tattoo there…. It was almost like… bite marks. Semi-circles littering my skin, overlapping in their design to the point where it was almost impossible to make out what they were. …Unless you knew. Unless you knew exactly what you were looking at. And if someone is marked with a doubl

It had been a month since Katleah surprised him. Tonight, it was Marco’s turn to return the favor. Earlier that week, he’d gotten a tattoo inked over his left chest; etched in elegant cursive, the words read, Till Death Do Us Part, My Katleah.

“My name is Stace. I come from a realm very far away. I shouldn’t be here, doing this, but Death has become too much of a threat.” “So you’re going to kill her?” The words feel ashy in my mouth. He nods grimly. “It is what must be done. Powerful immortals are becoming a threat to my kind.” “And what exactly is your kind?” I ask warily, my gaze falling to the tattoos on his neck, depicting patterns I’ve never seen before, a foreign story I don’t even want to begin deciphering. Not to mention the way they drift and curl tauntingly, ever so slowly that they nearly convince you that you’re just seeing things, and they are in fact nothing but normal tattoos.