Novel & Cerita Small Santa Muerte Tattoos

“Run me a license plate.” “Sure, Boss. What's the plate number?” Giving him the plate number, Santiago confirms it belongs to the Mongrels. While driving his motorbike, he pulls a firearm and shoots at the tire as the van swerves off the road and tilts. Many mongrels, then he runs out of the van, and they spot Joshua. They are all full of tattoos and carry the number 27, blood, and flesh. He is walking up to him. Joshua off his helmet as his eyes darken of anger, making a first. Without saying a word, he shoots the guy in the head. He returns to his bike, pulls out a machine gun, and starts firing as the mongrels drop one by one to the ground. As Joshua realizes the building is in Mongrel te

He looked at me briefly then back at my hand that was holding onto his. The biggest and clearer of the tattoos was on the back of his palm. It was drawn with dark ink that stood out on his well tanned dark hands. At first it looked like a sun rising in the horizon and glazing over a field with details of how it shines around it in tiny well drawn marks, I soon realized it was the sea the sun was rising on and not heaps in a field. "Solem Orientem Ghe Mari" I called out the foreign words written right under the tattoo of the sun and the sea. It sounded Latin or was it Italian?

“Two long tears. Both eyes.” The tattooist looked up from his tools, his expression grim. “You realize what you’re asking for? This isn’t just any tattoo. It marks you as part of a violent group. Step into River, and you’ll be arrested on sight. Worse, your soul will be bound to hers. If she dies, especially by your hand, your soul shatters into fragments. You’ll be left a husk—a mindless, broken shell. Are you sure about this?” In the corner, Argent leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, her silver braids reflecting the dim light as she formed a heart with her hands.