Novel & Cerita Simple Easy Scorpion Tattoo

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.

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.

I tried so hard not to flush when I saw his naked torso; it was a sight to behold. Broad wide shoulders with lots of muscles, defined strong abs and on his left pectoral, there was a scary tattoo of a three-headed vicious dog, surrounded by flames. And a lot of scars were all over his abdomen. On his back, there was a full back length tattoo of some sort of grim reaper, angel! His grunts again brought me back from dreamland. I shook my head, clearing it; I gently touched the wounded area on his right, trying to understand what I was dealing with.

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.

Dad snapped his eyes at me. "Are you sure?" He asked me but I shook my head in no. "No, I'm not. It's just a guess. But I noticed a tattoo on their arms which is a Scorpion. It can be a symbol of their gang or something." I saw deep wrinkles forming on his brow. "No, it can't be possible." Dad started panicking. His chest was heaving up and down. And he was taking heavy breaths. "What happened, Dad? Do you know them?" I asked him curiously but he wasn't telling me anything. He seemed to be drowned in some deep thought.

A story written in violence. A black scorpion tattoo stretched across his back, its tail curling dangerously along his spine. He looked down at his chest, the wound was bleeding through. Blood welled in bunch. “Shit—” He grabbed the antiseptic first and poured it directly onto the wound. The reaction was immediate. “Fuck—!” His entire body tensed, jaw clenching hard as the burn ripped through him. But he didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate. He cleaned it thoroughly, breathing through the pain like it was nothing more than an inconvenience.

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.

One of my guards had stepped forward to flank me, his arm lifted slightly and I saw why. One of the tattooed men had stopped dead, his eyes locked on my guard's hand. “What the hell?” he muttered. “Where did you get that ink?” Marlo frowned. “What?” “That tattoo,” the man said, pointing. “You a Serpent?” “No,” my guard said immediately. “That’s an old mark—” “Bullshit. That’s Serpent ink.” The scorpion man’s smile vanished. “You think we would let a goddamn Serpent walk through our town?”