Flash Ghostface Tattoo Novels & Stories

I hear him curse at me as I'm knocked on my ass. "Watch where you're walking," His voice is a growl and so not appreciated after the time I've had. I look up to see a face I don't recognize. Someone completely unknown to me. I open my mouth to tell him exactly what's on my mind-none of it is nice mind you-and I abruptly stop when I catch sight of the tattoo on his inner forearm. A tattoo I've seen many times on many different people. It's an oddly shaped star of sorts with what looks like two scythes circling it. A very specific type of tattoo. A specific gang tattoo. A tattoo I'm all too familiar with.

Both of them looked at me like I was insane. "First, he can tattoo? Second, you let him put his family crest on you? Damn girl." Becky laughed. I rolled my eyes. "Obviously. And well, it seemed fair. He let me tattoo him. The same spot, but his is a lotus flower sitting on a crescent moon with the five moon phases under it." I shrugged. "Wow. So you two are next level in this relationship. It's that serious." Becky whistled.

I chuckled and leaned in closer to his face, bending my knees. "Watashihadare?” [Who am I?] I burst out laughing at the thought that my own people have no idea who I am. Oh, right! My tattoo. I removed the silicone cosmetics that had covered my face tattoo. His eyes widened even more when I removed the cover, and because of the dark surroundings, it slowly glows. "R-Ranshio Violet! Mōshiwakearimasen! Watashi o yurushitekudasai watashi no oroka-sa no tame ni!"

He asked in surprise. "I mean, I will only be gentle doing these to the one I love, so, "So, you won't be gentle towards me?! " he asked with narrowed eyes. Before I could answer, he punched me in the face because I have a permanent fist tattoo on my face... ***

Marcus continued slowly. “He said when she handed him candy, her wrist was exposed for a moment. On it was a very unusual tattoo.” Marcus took out another photo. It was a child’s drawing. A twisted pumpkin face, its mouth split all the way to the ears, its eyes hollow spirals. “This kind of gothic-style tattoo… a lot of people have them…” My voice grew quieter and quieter. Marcus said nothing. He simply placed a third photo in the center of the table. The background was a beach and the open sea.

Relief settles for a heartbeat—my pack is safe. “Rhett,” Laura sighs. “Tell me already, what the hell is going on with you?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” I glare at her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be alone.” I turn and head for my apartment. Inside, I strip off my clothes. I’ve been holding back from checking the stabbing pain in my chest. I turn to the mirror— And freeze. A tattoo runs across my back, down into my chest. A river of blue light twists into a crescent moon. Inside the glow, faint outlines of wolves howl and run, their forms made of mist and stars. The whole thing pulses like a living vein under my skin.

I yelled, tears forming between my eye lids, shaking myhead at his unresponsive figure, hopelessly and angrily I slapped him across the face in frustration, “wake up douche bag!” His head spun to the side, almost immedietly coughing up water as my eyes widened hovering over him as I brought his face towards me, his eyes barely able to open as they fluttered, squinting through the darkness. I looked down at him in surpise, studying his face, breathing heavily in untold relief and anticapation, the sharp jawline, the very light freckles on his face, “are you okay?” I whispered lowering myself just above his face. His eyes were shutting and opening as if he was trying to see but couldn’t,

The side of his hand struck my face, and I tasted blood as my teeth clashed against his skin, the coppery taste flooding my mouth. “Fucking bitch,” he spat, slapping my face harder. The room spun. He pulled a thick tape from his pocket and slapped it over my mouth with cold efficiency, making my pulse race. He shoved me to the floor, my hands bound in front of me. I could barely move, barely breathe—the pain was suffocating. He walked to the door and locked it from the inside. Then he removed his white coat, revealing a tight-fitting black shirt. His arms were covered in tattoos, including one on his hand that read "GDL." The letters seemed to mock me. His body was full of ink, each design d

The spiral tattoo on her arm coiled just above her glove. Her. The woman from earlier. She leaned back, casual. Like this was nothing. The board flashed her alias: Mortal Fox. “Four hundred and fifty,” another voice called. I looked to the right. A fat man. Sweaty. His elephant mask was gold-plated, the trunk swinging when he moved. He was fanning himself, already panting. I could feel my stomach lurch. “Five hundred.” “Five-fifty.” “Six million,” she said, flatly, like she was swatting a fly.

"Ghost Shadow Curse. This is the mystical technique of the Brennan Secret Sect. Its power is unimaginable. You're dead!" The ghostly face roared and clawed its way toward Chase in attack. There was a chilling wind. The entire area was like hell on earth. It was frightening. The ghostly face kept floating around at lightning speed. It was difficult to catch it. "Not bad. Unfortunately, it's far weaker than I am." Chase burst out with a laugh and waved his right hand. Red flames appeared. They burned furiously as if wanting to incinerate everything in sight. The dark mist vanished because of the flames.