Red Tailed Hawk Tattoo Novels & Stories

I watched as he left, leaving me covered in blood and sobbing. There was something on his neck. I try to hone in on it and I squint my closed eyes even harder as I try to make clarity of it. It was a tattoo. He has a tattoo of a spider on his left side behind his ear. It was red and black like the spiders that eat their mates.

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.

He said and she swallowed hard. “What are these?” The tattoos were of several animals, some of them lunging, some snarling, some roaring and some resting. The tattoos were entrancing, something about them compelling. She felt like those eyes were alive, following her every movement. She touched a hand to the tattoo that was directly over his heart and he sucked in a breath at the touch of her fingers, rocking back on the balls of his feet. “I know this one.” She whispered. It was the same eagle that had saved her in Bare bones realm.

Althea remains by my side throughout the whole process, alternating between chatting with both Bailey and I, and touching me either by running her fingers through my hair or just whispering her words of encouragement into my ears, the pride and certainty obvious in her voice steadying me even more. By the time it’s done, they both help me to sit up then Bailey wheels a kind of mirror towards me— one that brings my nape into view. I catch the reflection of my tattoo, and my breath hitches. The phoenix is perfect—every feather, every line meticulously inked into my skin with the bold yet subtle touches of reds and oranges to depict the flames clinging to the wings of the legendary creature. A

“It’s time they knew the cost of silence.” And as Elias Hawke turned to leave, the camera caught one last thing: A tattoo on his wrist — a hawk in flight, split by a dagger.

He smiled. It was all hit and duck, play and game until he got enthused and pulled off his shirt, casting it at the roaring audience. I stilled, my vision reddening. The dark red tattoo of an arrow piercing an animal skull on his shoulder mugged all my attention. It was a tattoo I could never pass into oblivion. A tattoo that only hunters wore. Defiance was the only word blazing through my mind. Red and hot. I had him by the throat up against a post. "Why do you have the hunter's tattoo?"

He had his name written just above the wolf tattoo on his back closer to his nape. She didn't think Dexter would also have a tattoo at his back just Jayden. Now she thought about it, the wolf on Jayden's back was the color of his wolf and the crescent moon tattoo on his chest. Only that Dexter didn't have a tattoo on his chest. So does that mean that Ryder also had a tattoo at his back too ? She had not see Ryder's wolf before to know the color of his wolf. Was it a wolf thing to tattoo their wolves at their backs ?

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?

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.

Perhaps the recent events were showing her a rather depressing answer. She just smiled down at the eagle tattoo that she had on her right wrist. It had the savanna skyline wrapped around like the band, while the eagle head was in the center. The lion tattoo on Gryphon’s arm did survive long enough for it to show properly, and she hoped for it to stay as long as it would. Ten years more… and perhaps, along with their wedding vows, they could retouch their wedding tattoos.