Draco Gun Tattoo 소설 & 이야기

He also told me where he buried her. “Why are you telling me about this story?” I asked curious more than being afraid of him. “Because you are going to be my twenty-second Daisy.” “But you can’t kill me.” He looked surprised that I read between the lines of his story. “Yes, I can’t kill you. You see my therapist told me to get someone to talk to and I met your grandfather. He—” “What did you feel when you kill them?” “Why?” The man chuckled, “You know what, let me tell you about the story of my tattoo!” He removed his shirt revealing a tattoo of a huge dragon on his arm. “This is Vrtra. He’s the dragon that caused drought to many nations on old—’

I see the tattoo carved into his skull—a pyramid symbol. Black Mojo. “Where’s the Matron?” His voice is cold, lifeless. I spit blood, crawling back on my elbows. “Go to hell.” He raises his gun. BANG!!!

Draco halted his excuse as soon as Enzo lifted the gun. The men in the room froze. They all stood like statues, not blinking or breathing too hard. The gun faced Draco. Draco looked into Enzo's eyes and didn't find any form of pity or remorse. "Since you have worked for us for long, I'll grant you a quick death. Yes. I'll do you that favor," Enzo spoke, hawking at Draco. Draco swallowed his saliva again, and he lowered his head when Enzo cocked the gun. Draco closed his eyes, ready to die, the bullet went out, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He waited for two seconds but didn't feel a burning effect.

The boys quickly formed a defense stance behind each other giving me the chance to look at the source of such a strong voice. The tattooed stranger! “And who are you to tell us that?” The leading guy asked, his voice hard unlike that of a teenager he is. “Someone who can break your bones and dumb them in a police cell if you don’t leave this minute” he threatened It’s highly unhealthy how his strong command makes my painties wet in the face of danger. I must be going crazy.. The boys ran away in a matter of seconds leaving just the two of us in the area. “Uhhhm…. Thanks” I managed to say

My gaze drifted unconsciously to his collarbone. There was a new tattoo there. Red, still swollen from being freshly inked, but unmistakable. It was my name. The characters were rendered in the most ancient, wild cursive form of script, like an old, binding sigil. My fingers trembled as I touched it. “When did you… get this?” Henry caught my hand and rubbed it gently against his palm. “Last night, after you fell asleep.” “Did it hurt?” “It was better that it hurt.” His eyes darkened, and a satisfied smile curved his lips.

Or rather I say, on my arm, since I'm wearing a white sleeveless nightie. “Your seal. It’s visible.” My sister said as she looks at my arms. I turn my gaze upon what she’s looking at and there I saw the symbols on my both arms. A ruby red dragon with merlot lining is visible on my left, which is a symbol of Alaric. While an arctic blue dragon with cerulean lining on the right which came from Audra. These dragon tattoos on my arms stand are my seal. Because of what happened before, we’ve agreed to put a seal on me since I can barely feel nor use my power.

"I'm not really they're uncle." I watch as shoulders suddenly drop. One of the oldest twins steps forward and gives me a short salute and an eye roll towards Ashrac. "We like to call him uncle because it bugs him. Name's Drayce of the Purple Dragon Clan. We're twelve. This is my brother Ejder of the Purple Dragon Clan." They are both tall and lean with a lot of growing to do, but you can see they'll be the size of Ashrac before long. Both girls dutifully step forward next. They begin at the same time, stop, and then the one on the right speaks. "I'm Zara of the Purple Dragon Clan and this is-"

Petr only nodded his head at the compliment and I pulled my shirt and jacket back on. I left Petr in the back just as Milo pulled his shirt on as well and paid the artist for his tattoo. He grinned and lifted his shirt and over his chest was one man, three fairies and four dragons with his parents name cradling them on either side. “It’s magnificent Milo.” He nodded his head and I could sense his sadness as he pulled his shirt down and picked up his jacket. “Your turn.” I lifted my shirt at his request and he looked at the artwork. I lowered my shirt as we walked out of the shop and reached the car.

Damn this man. "You need more than that, okay where was I?," He cleared his throat, like he was about to unravel some big secret. She leaned in closer. Her eyes shimmering, okay, what was with women and gossip? "The tattoo in his nape represents the dragon club. It's a really dangerous club involving violence." She seemed interested, which was weird, because he never thought that Nicole Hart would want to get herself involved in all his family shit. He breathed in, stroking his hands.

The shots were whispers in comparison to the guns of a mech, but you wouldn't know it standing nearby. Then everything was quiet. I glanced down at myself. Nothing. I was unharmed. I looked up at Draco, who had taken a step back. In his hand was a sleek, silver M9 Beretta. Draco snarled and brought his empty left hand up to his right shoulder. Beneath his torn jacket I could see the padding of a kevlar vest, heavily indented by the force of a bullet. Already a small trickle of blood pooled in the dent. Although it had slowed the shot, the vest hadn't stopped the bullet's impact. Draco's firing arm was out of commission.