12 Scars Novels & Stories

"Alright, Dean, I heard you say your friend’s a gang leader, but the scars on his body are a bit excessive. While he’s done quite a bit to cover them up, they’re still pretty deep. Most of them are knife wounds—long blades, some small dagger marks—and there are a few that look like they were made by non-bladed weapons." Dean was stunned. It hadn’t crossed his mind that Chen not only covered the scars with tattoos but had also undergone surgery. The realization made a dull ache settle in his chest. He hesitated before asking, "So, these must be the kinds of knives commonly used in the gang?" Tara shook her head, her tone growing even more cautious. "Maybe, but based on your sketches, these sc

The Adversary Dark Prince (POV) When people notice the jagged scar on my arm, their eyes often widen with worry, and they jump to conclusions that are far from the truth. It's a common reaction, especially in a world where scars usually hint at pain or violence. But this scar tells a different story—it's not a sign of suffering; it's a symbol of something beautiful and meaningful in my life. Each curve and line of the scar represents resilience and a deep bond that has lasted through challenges, showing that not all scars are reminders of hurt. Instead, it reminds me of love and the strength I've gained along my journey.

What exactly did I do? She raised her head up and then covered her eyes with her hand. “It's all your fault.” “What exactly is my fault?” I finally voiced out the words as I needed her to clear it up because I was so damn confused. She removed her hand from her eyes and looked down at me. She raised her hand and pulled her blouse upwards and immediately, my eyes widened in horror. Right on the pale skin of her abdomen, three garrish scars ran from below her breast to her waist. From the way it looked, it was clear to see that it was claw marks and the wound had been very deep. Probably deep enough for her intestines to be pulled out.

I’d tortured enough people to know that all the scars littering her body would have broken even the strongest man, broken me. There was a large red mark that came up over the right side of her neck, over her shoulder and kissing her collarbone. However, the rest of the front of her body was covering in scars that ranged from small, thin and white to a gnarled one that ran from just below her left breast down across to her right hip. There wasn’t a piece of skin that you could see that was larger than a quarter that didn’t have a scar.

This man almost doubled his muscle mass. His dark brown hair had subtle streaks of red throughout. His eyes were green with hints of gold. They were the most amazing things I had ever seen. Looking at him made my heart pound. His eyes were focused on mine as he held my gaze. The scar on the left side of his neck was faded, the sight of it enraged me. I didn’t know why I was so upset about him being hurt. I felt myself begin to get lost in his eyes when my mind snapped me out of it.

Tyson is eager to start tracking. “Karen received extensive damage to the right side of her face and top of her head. Part of her scalp was torn off. They were able to sew it back in place to some degree. She also received deep lacerations, which caused nerve damage, so the right side of her face dropped. She also lost the function of her right eye, and it’s has a distinctive cloudy look now.” After the description of the old women, by the look on their faces, they wanted to know more because they knew Amelie’s wolf was sealed. “I don’t know how the injuries were sustained. Moving onto Tate.” I had to pause to control my anger. How could a mate do what he did? “He has a large gash scar on hi

The girl flinched and took a few steps back. Jasper watched everything, saying nothing. Nicole spoke calmly. "If he's really yours, tell me how many scars he has." The girl didn't hesitate. "I treated him like family. He didn't have any scars when he went missing." She didn't know, but Nicole did. He had been beaten. He had fought other strays. There were more than 20 scars on his body, including 1 on his brow from a past flood. Nicole listed them one by one, steady and precise. The girl fell silent, unable to respond.

, I came out of my car and I wasn’t surprised when Scarlett came out wearing a long face. “You bitch!” She said as she walked towards me. “Can we do this later, I got work. Thank you” I said dryly and made to enter my car but she was fast to touch me by my hand. I quickly removed her hand from my body like it was a plague and looked at her angrily. “Never in your life, I repeat, never touch me with that hand you uses to give my dad a hand job” Scarlett looked pretty embarrassed as I said that but she was quick to cover it up with a scoff.

I'm lucky enough if I woke up at five in the morning and leave at six, but I was striving too much that I sleep at quarter three in the morning and woke up at six. Good thing that death favors me more than anyone else. Staying late at night for my night shift and working in the morning. Death didn't even pay to visit me once. I waited for the other car to move for almost 15 minutes-- telling myself that I should be more patient, but the reality is my patience ain't long, I might lose my patience and start driving in the narrow spaces even tho I know it's dangerous. I took off my pink scooter helmet which is full of stickers.

If he were the type of man to weep, he might've right then. Cornflower gaze on her task, she outlined the series of red scars from where shrapnel had embedded itself during the explosion. There were seven in total, all ranging from a one-inch circle to a three-inch linear line. Some were raised, others barely noticeable. He'd been lucky that none had completely severed muscle or tendon and had been easily removed surgically. But the tender way she touched them, ran her lips over the marks, was like getting hit all over again. This time square in the gut. Like he was five-years-old and had scraped his knee, she acted as if she could kiss it better.