Pink flash sheet of black and pink horror designs including a skeleton, werewolf head, coffin, raven, snake, bats, eyes and a severed hand.

Horror flash sheet with skeleton and werewolf

Mixed · Flash

A flash sheet of horror-themed designs on a pink background, with a standing skeleton, a werewolf head, a coffin, a fanged mouth, a severed hand, a raven, and several eyes and knives scattered around the page. The designs use bold black linework and solid black fills, with pink used for the tongue, blood drops and a few accents. Small drops fall between the motifs, and the layout is spaced so each design can be taken as a separate piece.

Skeleton Coffin Raven Eye Snake Bat Beetle Knife Axe Candle Dagger Creature Skull Blood drop Cross Pentagram

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Entry 14, Gull Point Crossing, 2:10 a.m. Rain again, the fine kind that finds its way under the booth door and settles on the ledger. The lorry from Szczecin was clean on paper: frozen peas, two pallets, a driver who hummed along to a radio nobody else could hear. Then the reefer unit clicked off and the dogs in the next bay stopped barking all at once, which I have never seen dogs do.

Keep reading

I went out with the torch and Pearce, who has twenty years on me and says little about any of it. The trailer doors were fastened with a brass padlock I had not seen before, stamped with a small cross. Inside, under a ceiling furred with frost, stood a coffin. Plain black, lid screwed down. A slip of paper was tucked under the handle with one word typed on it: RECEIVED. Pearce crossed himself, which surprised us both.

The manifest listed nothing of the kind. When we got back to the cab the driver was gone, the seat still warm, a dagger-handled letter opener lying on the dashboard, and the radio playing a song I half knew from my mother's kitchen, slowed to a crawl. Pearce wanted to call it in. I wanted to be sure. We stood in the rain while the drops ran off the trailer roof in a neat line, the way they run down the margins of a page.

At six the coffin was still there, and so was the stamp, but the lid had been unscrewed from the inside. The frost on the floor held the print of one long bare foot walking towards the sea. Pearce has put in for the day shift. I have marked the entry as cleared, because that is the job, and because I could not think what else to write. Past the fence a raven is talking to nobody, and I am listening to it count.