Small Santa Muerte Tattoos Novels & Stories

Luca crossed the room, brushing her hair from her face. “You don’t have to be fire every night. Even storms need sleep.” Amara leaned into him, her voice lower. “I’m afraid if I stop, the darkness will catch me.” He kissed her jaw. “Then I’ll stay awake with you.” Santero wasn’t a myth. He was real. Alive. And buried deep in the red alleys of Granada, protected by priests who didn’t pray to God and ghosts that remembered blood. They found him through one of Amara’s old cartel ties — a Dominican named Cas.

Alec sounded so surprised. “Every pack has their own way of doing it.” There was a pause. “I also offer memory tattoos for half off as long as they are small and not a full back or anything.” “Really?” “Yup.” The rest of the drive was quiet. At one point, Alec reached over and held my hand. I was taken aback but after a little bit, it felt comfortable. When we pulled to the gate, I let go so I could learn forward and look at the guards. He waved me through. Colt was waiting at the door.

I didn't want them to think that I was going kuku but again the fact that I just told them I found myself sitting on the road unsure of were I came from will definitely make them think I have gone kuku " You've been through so much dispite being young and innocent and is that a tattoo on your shoulder?" Sebastian asked staring at my shoulder. "Tattoo no its not a tattoo.." I covered it up. Santiago moved my hand away and moving the dress strap a little exposing the mark "Oh my God it is a tattoo but how I thought you---" he stopped mid sentence looking at me as I looked anyway else but him. I am not I repeat I am not going to tell them that Micheal was a werewolf.

I know that he will run at the back door just to run away from me, to save his life, but I will not allow that, because there’s a debt that he needs to pay, and the payment is his LIFE. I went back inside the house and went upstairs to my room. I took Kera out and told her that there will be a big game that will happen later, and she needs to watch because she will be my only audience aside from my mom and dad inside my heart necklace. She said “Yes” to it and I know she is also excited like me. I put her at the top of the cabinet, for her to watch clearly and I wrote “MORTEM” on a piece of paper with my blood and let her hold it. After a few hours of waiting. I heard Mang Berto’s pickup tru

“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.