Edgar Allan Poe Tattoo Novels & Stories

The light scattering of hair on his lower abdomen disappeared into the towel and the only thing marring the beauty of his skin was the angry red mark on his chest, just a few inches away from his heart where he had been shot yesterday. Now that he was finally unclothed, I was able to see the tattoo on his left arm. It was a picture of a phoenix in flight and it was magnificent. The artist had focused on every tiny detail down to the red eye of the phoenix and somehow, it suited him. He was just as majestic as the bird.

I am thankful he let me listen to that song. “Thank you… I almost forgot about those important details.” I bluntly said. He moves closer messing my hair making me grunt and gesture my hand, sliding it vertically to my neck. It’s a warning not to mess with my hair. “Oh… the tiger is now back.” I never mind what he was saying. I just focus on my drawing; maybe it will help me to find them. I picture out the tattoo I see on that bastard's left chest. It’s the only thing I can hold to find that tattoo. I draw a wolf eating the full moon looking up…maybe to praise the Moon Goddess or the opposite meaning? Devouring?

As long as it wouldn't hurt anyone. I got Max's call after a few minutes. Walking away from the men who were mopping the floor, I took the call. “Any news?” “Yes, my alpha. The tattoo belonged to the men of the Scorpion Syndicate. That's their symbol mark. It's of a skull being pierced by an axe and an arrow prodding from its left eye. I can't be wrong about that.” “I see.”

“That’s so weird, because-” Through grinding teeth, I blurt out, “girls usually get star tattoos,” my eyes shift past Lyra, “right Eden?” She stutters out her words, unsure of what to do, “yeah…oh definitely. I have a star tattoo,” she flashes them the inside of her wrist where there’s a star along with a music note and an apple core. It symbolizes our friendship. Obviously I’m the star, Lyra is the music note and Eden, well…the garden of Eden and the forbidden apple.

“I’m going to put something on now!” “Nice tattoo, Aldo!” Adia teases. Yeah I have a tattoo on my ribcage, no one really sees it unless they see me shirtless. Nova hasn’t said anything, but I doubt my tattoo is the first thing on their mind. It’s a flaming phoenix . Knowing I was the only survivor of the crash that killed my parents and maternal grandparents makes me feel a bit like a phoenix. I’ll need a purple butterfly over my heart, for Nova.

The four types of tattoos were the Alpha tattoo, the Beta tattoo, the Zeta tattoo, and the member tattoo. My tattoo had seven moons at the top of my back with two versions of the Helm of Awe on each shoulder blade. In the middle of my back was Yggdrasil, the tree of life with a wolf head coming out of the roots. Finally, below the wolf and running down my spine was my name in Old Norse. In the middle of Yggdrasil’s branches, the Alpha sign of our pack was cleverly blended in.

They were a vivid, piercing green that seemed to see through my skin. Eucharist. The legend that could pull life back from the grave. My skin glowed, mirroring the green veins throbbing in his neck. A tattoo etched itself into my forearm—a white wolf, burning white-hot. I stared at the symbol, feeling a sting of bitter irony; a mark of the wolf burned into the skin of a girl who had just traded her inner beast for a savior. We floated in that emerald silence before the light died, dropping us hard onto the ferns.

Sonia didn’t seem convinced by my words but decided to let me be. I went back to work and tried to focus, but my mind wasn’t at rest. I kept thinking of him, my parents' killer. I knew I wasn’t mistaken. He was the one. The tattoo was exactly the same. It was well-crafted and spectacular, not just an ordinary scorpion tattoo but has a signature sign. Something written in foreign letters beside the tattoo; such a tattoo couldn’t be found anywhere else. This tattoo was etched into my memory. Every time I blinked, the image of that scorpion tattoo flashed before my eyes. I wasn’t mistaken. It was him.

I murmured while examining the included photographs. One image depicted Aurora during her teenage years, alongside a teenage boy, evidently deeply in love. Presumably, this was her mate. Another photograph captured the boy shirtless, his shorts riding low enough to reveal a discreet D&D tattoo just below his abdomen, where his V-shaped muscle disappeared beneath his shorts. The tattoo would have gone unnoticed if the photographer hadn't intentionally focused on it. A third photograph showed the two of them reclining together, the camera zeroing in on their matching initials tattooed on their skin.

When they’d drafted the terms in ink, never once mentioning what it really meant. This wasn’t about affection. It wasn’t even about heirs. It was about obedience. Breeding. Binding. Blood. She stared, frozen. The girl on screen sagged, losing consciousness. And then—the man turned toward the camera. For one moment, light caught his jaw just right. And Leora saw it. A tattoo. Small. Black. Etched into the skin just below his ear. A serpent devouring its own tail. Ouroboros. She’d seen it before.