Scars That Turn White Novels & Stories

he half smiled and left the bathroom. Ugh what is wrong with me! Asking him to join me in the shower, could I be any more slutty. It’s like all logic and morals are out the door when he is around. He just drives me so damn crazy. I got out the shower, dried myself off and wrapped the towel around me. I looked at myself in the mirror, my eye was basically back to the right colour with just a small dark pink patch remaining on my eyelid. The burns on my neck were nearly gone. There were still some patches of discolouration and some spots that looked like small round scars, but the skin itself was healed. I turned slightly to look at the slashes on my back, they were all gone too, not even a sc

Everyone turned to look at her and she was touching her own neck where Jonathan had bitten her, the two little scar msrks barely visible now. “When Jonathan bit me it was just two holes and it hurt like hell but it looked normal. Like a bad hickey or something.” Naomi’s hand moved to point at Lily. “But hers doesn’t look like that. The skin around it is turning gray and it’s hard, like scar tissue but worse, and those black lines—I didn’t get black lines.” Luca looked back down and Naomi was right. The wound itself was changing, the edges turning this weird silver-gray color and the flesh around it hardening.

But wounds like this scar publicly. And scars change perception.

Remembering that night like it had only happened yesterday. The little white wolf with the white and blue eyes who not only pursued him through the forest while filling his lungs with his intoxicating scent of freshly plucked apples and the earthy essence of rain after a storm but also marked him. At first, it was a wound he concealed from everyone around him hoping that it would heal and fade away but no such luck. Instead, the wound after healing became a scar that looked like a snowflake but with bright flaming colors, and once in a while, the mark would sting so bad he would shed a few tears.

A raggedy awful looking scar running from cheek to forehead and passing right through, so deep you can tell he was wounded pretty badly whenever this happened and it’s literally the first thing you see. I try not to stare but it is so very rare to see a wolf with any kind of scars. We selfheal, miraculously, and instantly most of the time, and only one kind of wound will ever leave a mark like that on a healthy wolf. Silver dipped in wolfsbane. I heard they used it against our kind in the wars with some success, although it killed most.

I confirm. “Well, it would help me to visualize the scar if we can turn him onto his stomach. It’s been found that extra virgin olive oil can be sprayed onto a scar and it will illuminate it in various intensities based on the thickness of scarring. The brightest shade is normal skin, areas that don’t illuminate under the black light are really thick scar tissue and there are levels in between both.” “Cole?” I attempt to include him. “Will it hurt?”

For me, today is a black day. Once I put my underwear, I looked back at the mirror and examined my wrist just below my palm where I had a fresh purple stain half day ago and now it has turned into dry brown like I had a bruised wrist a week ago, not yesterday. How it's possible? And then I turned my back to examine the ugly wound which will definitely leave a permanent scar, and to my surprise, the wound has faded completely and I can see the faint trace of the scar if I look more closely and I can't even feel any pain.

I turned sideways, twisting my neck until it cracked, straining to get a better look in the bathroom mirror. The reflection didn't lie. The skin of my back, which had been shredded by a wolf’s claws less than forty-eight hours ago, was pristine. It was pale, unblemished, and completely scar-free. I stared at myself, a cold knot of dread tightening in my stomach. This wasn't normal healing. Even for a werewolf, this was impossible. Werewolves healed fast, yes, but deep tissue damage took days. Charlie’s claws had scraped bone. This was something else. This was ancient.

the nurse said softly. I looked down at my prevoiusly mauled shoulder. She was right, my werewolf healing factor had done it's work. Some jagged lines of puckered white scar tissue still remained but the rest was pretty much healed. The white haired finalist I had met a couple days earlier peered over from behind the nurse to get a better view of my wound. "You're a werewolf," she reminded, "scars are badass."

he retorted, a hint of confusion tainting his voice. "Well, typically, scars that have been present for over a decade tend to gradually fade due to metabolic processes," Gwyneth replied, recalling the scar she had observed at the hospital. She was certain she hadn't misjudged it. Elizabeth's scar couldn't be more than a few years old at most. Furthermore, burns and scalds affected muscles differently, with scalds generally healing faster.