Hell Hound Tattoo Novels & Stories

“Why does it look like someone painted on my back?” “That,” Tara whispered, “is the hellhound sigil.” I stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Okay… and what exactly does that mean? Because I’m pretty sure it’s been like a week since I got rid of those monstrosities, and I never want anything associated with hellhounds again.” Nathan took a few steps forward. “It means you’re cursed.” He said it so calmly, as if he was advising children’s drugs. My heart raced. “Anyone who kills a hellhound is marked… for death.”

H). We have this tattoo somewhere on our body. Ransom’s tattoo hides in the body of another tattoo. The image depicts Anubis sitting on his throne with Callisto, a Greek Goddess, standing next to him. Callisto wears a silver bear headdress and holds the moon in front of her stomach. At the feet of the gods, a black wolf with green eyes faces a menacing black hellhound with gray eyes and Anubis-like ears. It’s easily one of my favorites on his body. Arson’s knees rest above my head as he rubs the tip of his dick against my lips, seeking entrance. I open and feel the cool metal against my tongue and the roof of my mouth as I envelop it in warm, wet heat. He moans my name in reverence.

Her face concealed behind a white yashmak with a little trinket around her neck and the letter ‘J’ emblem on her right shoulder as she folded her arms under her copious chest. “It’s a pleasure to see not just two great Humanes but four of them; one of each is enough to fully annihilate a thousands ordinary beast beings. All at once. I’m honored.“ Hailed a bald dark skinned male with the letter ‘H’ tattooed on his lower chin looking more like a traditional lower Ichin tattoo. Dressed in a long, flowing white robe with long sleeves decorated with golden embroidery around his neck-line down to his chest and both the tips of his sleeves while holding a cap closer to his chest area.

Harken just narrows his eyes, fed up with the night’s events as is, but lifts his shirt to rip it over his head, revealing the large mixed tribal and Celtic style tattoo that runs from his left wrist up his arm and to his chest, the intricate symbol of the Lewis tribe crest in the middle of his breast, and the large head of a wolf covering his shoulder, winding and thick brushed tribal designs covering the skin around them. “Guess again, asshole. If you’re so familiar with their markings, you probably know what my ink means.” Harken glares down at Karl, watching as the kids’ wide eyes wander over the tattoo, his fingers gripping his forearms. “Well, w-what’s that one then?” Karl asks and poi

After the near rape incident the first few months I was there, we had the tattoos done on our left arm to signify we were all one, part of the same group. A sigil of each pack combined into one tattoo. A wolf’s head with long fangs for Venom Fang, the crescent moon above its head for Crescent Moon Lucius’s pack, The forest behind it for the Black Forest pack that Johnny comes from, a red river at the bottom for Dex’s pack the Blood River Pack and the night sky, for the Dark Night Pack where Brent is from. They all have the same one. Heading out into the living room, I see them all sitting around chatting and laughing when they all look at me.

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?

“I want you alive.” The Councilor’s eyes narrowed. “This is irregular.” “So am I,” Ronan said flatly. “I will answer for it.” Silence stretched. Finally, the Councilor inclined his head. “The Council will observe.” Ronan nodded once. It was done. The wolves began to disperse, whispers following them like smoke. Chains were removed entirely. Someone draped a cloak over my shoulders black, heavy, marked with a silver sigil that burned against my skin. Claimed.

“The one I cut on the back?” I blinked at her. “You mean the little asswipe with the shitty tattoo who wanted to fuck up my pretty face with his brass knuckles? Yeah, I’m fairly positive I don’t care if he’s okay. But from the way he lit out of there like his tail was on fire, I’d say he’s just fine.” “It wasn’t a shitty tattoo,” she mumbled. “It was the eye of Horus. Some thought it was a symbol to ward off evil, but it’s actually supposed to symbolize healing.”

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.

His fur had once been a sleek, silken black. Age and hunger had dulled it. Scars crisscrossed his flanks. On his shoulder, visible where the fur had been ripped away, a tattooed sigil stood out, ragged but unmistakable: A crescent of ink laid over a blotched circle. Moon over shadow. He had seen that mark burned into trees, carved into stones, painted on shields in old war stories. The brand of the Shadow Pack. “What in the Moon’s broken face,” Tamsin whispered, “is a Shadow dog doing alive?”