Thanatos Tattoo Novels & Stories

“That tattoo on your neck was the same as hers. The exact same, no difference. I would remember that tattoo even if I was dead.” I stared, still not knowing what else to say. I had never felt strongly about anything as I’d felt about this. But where was the evidence to prove I might have not been responsible for Zara’s death? And the same tattoo? No one had my tattoo. No one. It was the inking of me as an angel dressed in black and wielding a gun and a knife, and next to it was a star. The word ‘death’ was inked on one of the wings while black stars were inked dripping like tears from the other wing.

he asked as he checked his tattoo machine. “Permanent,” Yash replied. “Of what you want a tattoo of and where do you want me to crave it? Sir?” The tattoo artist asked Yash. “On my backbone,” Yash replied as he took off his shirt and lay down. “Are you sure? Backbone tattoos hurt the most,” He informed Yash, but all Yash needed right then was pain; only pain could tackle his pain into not killing himself, he needed to be alive and only another pain could help him.

” My face must have said it all because Anton just moved his head up and down. "While there, My lord will call the power of darkness to activate the tattoo. But you, my lady, you will have to be very brave and strong. Since darkness usually consumes even the strongest. The darkness seeks your vulnerability and exploits it. Making you fall into despair. Those who do not succeed will end up destroyed, and their souls will wander eternally in nothingness.” The only thing I understand perfectly is that my life could end in a few more hours, and in the worst way. I looked down at the floor, contemplating my options. Armaloth is very sure that I will pass this rite, and that the tattoo will come t

It's simple, yet, captivating. It features the Italian flag in colour, a black and white rose, rosary beads entwine with the stem and thorns, and the Esposito name is carved into the rose's shaded knuckle busters that rest beneath the rose with a single petal beside it. "I'm going to cut this from your body," I tap the scalpel against his tattoo, "And I'm going to keep it as a souvenir in my husband's family home." I sneer with a wicked smile playing on my lips.

Zach Romano. Leaning against the kitchen doorway like it belonged to him. His black hair was a mess, his blue eyes flat, unreadable, and his bare chest on full display, carved with muscle and shadow. On his ribs, a tattoo stretched over olive skin, an Italian cross with Latin scrawled underneath. Mors tua, vita mea. Your death, my life. I stared at the tattoo. Then, slowly, my eyes dropped to his torso. Abs, tight and low, vanishing into a pair of dark gray sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips.

Thanatos answered taking a sit on a fallen trunk. "Where am i?" He didn't wonder because he felt at peace with the stillness of time ending. He has been for a long while. But he needed to know for certain. "You are on the verge of death. This is the point where I carry your soul back to life!" He pulled down his hood to reveal a symbol of an inverted torch branded into the caramel skin at the back of his neck. "You have been bringing me back?" Grey asked taking a sit next to him. He was about to ask a question he spent decades asking himself but could never find an answer to.

Now, all he needs to do is back up this evidence with more photographs that show Sarah is indeed the manananggal. Acting swiftly, he groped for his phone in his side pocket and dialed the number of the Spirit-Hunters, a group of individuals from various walks of life who have devoted their lives in hunting down ghosts and mythical creatures. Through them he knows light will be shed on the mystery behind the death of his parents. This group is well-known all over the world for cracking the code on the most difficult cases. Hiring them can cost Mark a huge sum of money, but this does not bother him. He would exhaust all the resources that he has if only to catch the killer and get his vengeanc

I inwardly murmured to myself. Ethan had a tattoo on his back. Right across his shoulders were medium- sized horizontal wings. They looked a little Goth and almost Greco-Roman in their black inked starkness. I loved the quote underneath the wings. No more yielding but a dream. I saw it in the shower when he turned to get the soap.

The unknown young man shouted to the girl. “Stop this, both of you!” Tohya shouted at the same exact moment that the young man did. Yuri can only stare at the young man before noticing the black butterfly tattoo on the side of his neck, and her gaze went down to his left hand where there was a Hati bracelet wound around his wrist with the Roman numeral of two engraved on the silver crescent moon pendant. ‘A Phantom? Then that means…’

He snapped. I picked up the stamp and dabbed it on the ink, "Then hand it over to me, Draven," I said without looking at him, placing the stamp on the first paper of a man named Aaron Thorne, a man condemned to death for banditry and assaulting an elder. His name now bore the official seal of Vantheir...a death sentence cast in red ink. "And I can be the one who takes that burden off you," I said, carefully stamping the next paper, and the next and the next, "let me be everything you need, Draven."