Large traditional-style back tattoo of a hooded grim reaper holding a rifle, with arched Sons of Anarchy lettering above and California below, placed across the upper and middle back.

Grim reaper lettering across a back piece

Traditional · Back · Mixed · Photo

A hooded grim reaper holding a rifle and a scythe-like blade sits at the centre of the design, with a yellow anarchy symbol and small red drips adding colour. Bold black arched lettering reads Sons of Anarchy above and California below, with a small MC beside the figure. The image is a back-on view of a man's shirtless torso, with the tattoo filling most of the frame and the lettering framing the central figure.

Traditional Lettering Back Grim reaper Skull Hood Scythe Lettering Blood

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody in Port Ashgrove would sell Dell Harrow a boat after the spring he ran the Corvina onto the Sisters rocks, so he bought a rowing skiff from a widow in Monterey and painted the old name out in black. The hull came with a rifle under the thwart, a brass ship's bell and a long curved gaff that the widow swore was older than the harbour wall. He used the gaff for hooking buoys and for nothing else.

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Every Thursday the old men on the pier argued about the hooded figure who rowed out past the kelp beds at dusk, sitting straight-backed with the rifle across his knees. Some said he collected debts. Some said he ferried the drowned, or that he had been a deputy once and stopped believing in courts. Dell let them talk, since talk kept the Coast Guard from asking about the yellow circle he had scratched into the transom, a letter A inside it, worn nearly to nothing by salt.

In October a net-mender's daughter called Ines came down the slip in the fog and asked him to find her brother's boat. He didn't ask why she hadn't sent the lifeboat. He pushed off, rang the bell twice so any boat close by would know where he was, and listened for the answer. They found the Lark drifting bow-on to the swell with its engine ticking as it cooled, nobody aboard but a paraffin lantern turned low on the thwart.

Ines picked it up and read the scrawl on its base: gone ashore with Tomas, back by six. Dell watched her face in the lamplight and understood he had been rowing for a fear that was never out here at all. When the fog lifted, she asked him whose name the bell carried. He told her it had no name, only a job, and rowed her home before the lamps came on.