Memorial Forearm Tattoos 소설 & 이야기

Just barely enough for me to see it and know it was meant for me. I looked away from her and that was when I saw it. The stranger had stepped slightly further into the light of the hallway and his left forearm was visible where his sleeve was pushed up. A tattoo ran along the inside of his forearm, dark ink, a specific pattern — angular lines that curved at the end in a way that was not common, not something you saw every day. I had seen that tattoo before. I had cleaned dried blood away from that exact forearm three days ago in the cold air near my mother's grave, my hands shaking as I pressed gauze against skin that had been torn open by something I hadn't asked about.

“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.

After I shower, I opt for a wife beater and a pair of loose-fitting shorts. My right forearm is still scabbed over from my latest tattoo. Every time I look at it, I am proud that I now have my pack displayed on my body. It had taken me a while to draw out the design just the way I wanted it to look. It depicts a full moon coming up over a hazy horizon. A wolf's head with bright red eyes is baring its teeth as it emerges forth from the moons' surface.

"And this time, I'm using a permanent marker." I looked up at the giant white hand. On the wrist, there was a tattoo. It was my own name. Logan Frost.

I said as his eyes widened and I stuck the knife in his neck a few times as his blood spurted over the tiled floor. “Dispareo,” I said as his body started to evaporate and disappeared back to the realms of the dead. I gritted my teeth as my skin started to burn and his mark appeared on my arm in a tattoo like emblem. None of the marks on my arms were actual tattoos, they were the marks of the souls I’d taken, people I’ve killed and sent back. It only burned for about fifteen seconds as the mark started to heal and formed part of the other marks creating the sleeve effect on both my arms.

Then he looked at the fourth one and just waited. The fourth one stepped back. Smart. The referee rang the bell. The crowd went loud. The man stood in the middle of it all, chest rising and falling, sweat gleaming under the lights, and looked completely unbothered. Like he had just taken a short walk. Then I saw his forearm. The tattoo. Dark ink, detailed, curling up from his wrist toward his elbow. A dragon, scales and lines I could actually make out now in the better light. My breath left my body.

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.

As long as we weren't triggering any hormones then we were fine. "When did you do this tattoo and what does it mean? I've been wanting to ask you but I forget everytime" Anushka asked after a moment of silence as she ran her finger down my arm, tracing up my tart "I got that when I was eighteen and it is actually a tribal tattoo for the McKenzie clan..Every McKenzie have this ,both men and women just in different parts of the body.."I continued to explain"Men mostly do it on their shoulder down their arm and chest just like mine and women in their lower arm down to the hand"

She wanted no part in anything involving Jadie or Zach. As Madelyn shifted her gaze away, she noticed a blue tattoo on Forrest's arm. It felt strangely familiar. She had a fleeting sense of having seen it on someone in a past life. 'It looks familiar,' she thought, but the memory slipped away for a moment. She couldn't recall when or where she had seen it before.

“I should have known that something was wrong with my memories. Sometimes I would get this feeling... I don’t know how to explain it to you. That somehow you are waiting for me. And when I would touch my left palm, sometimes I would feel the scar from our ceremony. I thought that I was going crazy. And to know that Sarya altered my memories. How can I know which ones are real and which ones are not?” Ayla put her palm against his face. “When I get my memories back, we will compare them.” Rhobart nodded, then he stood, moved a few steps away from the table, pulled his tunic over his head, and let it drop to the floor. “Once, you asked me about my tattoos. I want to tell you what they mean. Wh