Realistic skull tattoo in shaded greys and reds on the back of a hand, with partial script tattoos above the wrist.

Realistic skull tattoo on the hand

Realism · Hand · Mixed · Photo

A photograph of a realistic human skull tattooed across the back of a hand and onto the fingers, shown at an angle with the skull's eye socket and teeth prominent. The skull is shaded in greys and whites with soft pink and red tones across the skin and the surrounding shadows. Partial script or lettering tattoos are visible higher up on the wrist, and the background is dark and out of focus.

Realism Hand Skull Hand Script Teeth

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mr Oddie had never liked the way the man kept his right hand inside his coat, but he liked the thing that came out of it even less. It sat on the counter of Pryor's pawnshop in Sallow Bridge, grey as wet slate, with one eye socket turned towards the window and a row of teeth that someone had clearly been proud of, one of them capped in gold.

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"Four pounds," said Oddie. "Against what?" The man laughed and said it was not for pawning, only for keeping safe until the spring fair, and that he would be back with the rest of the money. Oddie wrote the ticket anyway, because the ledger demanded a name and the man gave one. Fenwick. Oddie entered it in the column for unredeemed goods, where it sat beside a christening mug and a drawer of false teeth.

Through March the skull did nothing at all. Ada, who swept the back room, said it watched her from the shelf. Oddie told her that was rubbish, and then one wet morning he found the gold tooth prised free and set in the dish of loose change, neatly, as if somebody had counted it out for him.

Fenwick never came back. In April Oddie carried the skull down to the river, meaning to drop it off the footbridge, but the light was low and copper on the water, and he found himself holding it up against the sky with his thumb in the eye hole, the way a greengrocer checks a melon. He set it on the rail and walked home without it, and he did not once look back at the bridge, though he could feel that empty socket following him all the way up Mill Lane.