Simple Easy Scorpion Tattoo Novels & Stories

It's a drawing of the moon cycle with the center silhouette of a howling wolf. "How is a drawing going to help?" I'm perplexed. "This a drawing of a tattoo. Faris, one of the non-affiliated wolfs drew it. He said he saw it on a lot of the wolves who held them captive. We believe this is how they identify each other. It's always in blue ink on their forearm." Amelie hands me the drawing. "This will help narrow down who joined and who has been forced to help them. This is great!" I can't believe they are dumb enough to mark themselves. They are making it easy.

The natural waist dropped into a sheer fabric with flowers stitched into it. The scars have relaxed and really created a pretty chain-link pattern. Although our wolves really worked on healing me, they are just now calming down and looking like regular scars. I have grown accustom to them to the point that I want to get them tattooed. As a symbol of my strength and determination to not let evil win. Soft music was playing as I paced around this tent. The only thing I knew about this event was the smell of lilacs. “Ready?” Colt lifted the side and stepped in.

She glanced at me like it hurt to do so,and at that point it seemed her upper lip was always perpetually curled up–her nose wrinkled–whenever she stared at me. “Scorpion tattoos,” she said, no longer looking at me but at an empty space between us. “They seemed familiar,” Harris muttered. “Thank goodness I was able to bring one of them home with us.” I bolted up from my seat before I could stop myself, immediately feeling the judgemental stares of the family as they watched me curiously. “Um…I wanna see him,” I gave a shaky smile. “Is he in the house?” The alpha was the only one who nodded in response. “He is, we're going to get more answers from.”

Much like the man himself! Asides from the writing the tattoo looks like Something older, darker, heavier than anything I’ve ever seen. It snakes across his chest in a pattern that feels… almost alive. There’s a drawing of a serpent or is it a dragon?, its body curling and twisting in a perfect ouroboros on the left side of his torso, scales etched so finely I swear I could almost feel them under my fingertips. His heart beats beneath it, steady, slow, eternal, and it’s like the tattoo moves with him, shifting slightly as he exhales.

“Are you done? I’m going to sleep.” “I mean it, Scarlet.” He kissed me on the lips. “Other than me, I don’t know who can take care of you and healing your wounds. Let me be your lover, Scarlet.” “Whatever, I’m not listening.” I closed my ears with my hands and turned towards the wall to go to sleep. This Sin had to be out of his mind, I thought. With my tiredness, I soon drifted into slumberland. However, the slumberland I saw was not one of those pastel-coloured dreams filled with clouds. It was dark and lava was oozing over the black earth. Above me, bats circled the black, empty sky.

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

As she unbuttoned his shirt, she noticed the tattoo of a horse on his neck which was mostly concealed by his shirt. "This is one of Christopher Stallion's men," she said. "What?" "Look at him," she said, pointing to the tattoo. "That is impossible," the governor incredulously. "My men are all trusted men." "But he has the tattoo of a horse on his neck. It would interest you to know that Stallion has a similar tattoo, and so does every member of his gang. Do you doubt it? I have a tattoo of a scorpion on my back because I am a Black Scorpion. All the members of the gangs have tattoos on their bodies."

, he then gestured me to follow him and said "come along.” He stepped outside with me beside him. The air was cooler now. The sun was going down. As we walked, Cobra pointed at a man sitting near a log with a guitar resting on his lap. “That’s Scorpion,” he said quietly. “The burn scar on his face was from a car accident years back. He used to play in shows although he was not famous, but he tried.” Scorpion noticed us looking and gave a shy wave. His scar ran across his cheek like melted wax. He smiled anyway.

He had caught me checking him out! "It's time for dinner, come downstairs." He said and swerved to leave, his back faced me my eyes got a peek of a tattoo, it was the drawing of a scorpion and it was blue. I figures out it was a symbol of his mafia since it was The Blue scorpion. He stopped and veered around to face me.

There was something everybody in the room had in common, and that thing is their evil and gut-killing aura. None of them were smiling. But if there was anybody that had the most notorious and evil expression, it was the guy sitting in the direction opposite the other six. He had the darkest hair in the world, dark-brown eyes that showed his hatred against humanity and his devilish personality. Across his left cheeks is a beautiful yet sleep-tormenting tattoo of the Indian red Scorpion. Raven seemed to be in torture as he looked at the six men before him. His hands were balled into a fist and it seemed like he was holding his breath as he observed each of their faces.