Scars That Turn White 소설 & 이야기

Antonio just knows how to hurt someone badly. "What the fuck does *not really* mean?" Ben's words are sharp, and I hug my legs closer. As if a lightbulb had turned on in his head, he ceased in his pacing to look at me with a dark glare. "Did he scar you?" His voice is hoarse and nearly a whisper as it leaves the room thick with worry. Scarring is very difficult to achieve for a wolf because of how fast we heal. Only severe damage can cause it. I swallow hard at the question, which is all the answer he needs to hear.

I’d been pushed against a stone wall; the mark had burned into my flesh, and later healed with the soft pink line that still held memories. But this morning, under the soft lantern light, I noticed something I’d missed before: a faint shimmer around the scar’s edge. A twist of silver light, as though magic still pulsed beneath the skin. My breath caught. I leaned in, heart pounding. I whispered to myself, “Impossible…” I dabbed the salve over the scar, but the shimmer remained, a heartbeat of light at the boundary of flesh. My fingers trembled. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and splashed cool water over my arm. The light winked out, leaving only the familiar pink line.

“However, can you see all those little white lines resting on the bone of your skull? Well… you see, even the bones in our bodies scar when they’re hurt, and so, all those little Lines and dots are All scarring from repeated head trauma. Let me explain it to you you, there are too many marks for you to be sat in front of me.” “What do you mean? Too many marks, what exactly are you trying to get at?” I was beyond confused and beyond worried about the outcome of his tests. The way he was talking made it seem like I should be… “This much head trauma, it’s an uncommon occurrence, most people who are bought in here this amount of extensive scarring are already passed.”

And one of those pieces was now etched into my skin. A faint scar on my palm—a small, stubborn wound that refused to heal. I’d gotten it during that fateful scuffle with Diantha. It should’ve closed within hours. Days, at most. But weeks later, it still throbbed now and then. Not bleeding, but not healing either. And that wasn't normal. Not for a werewolf. We don’t scar. Not easily. Our bodies stitch back together faster than most magic can damage us. So how had such a shallow injury lingered this long?

What was he going to do when he found out I had never shifted thanks to the slave mark? “I, uh…I’ve never shifted.” The silence in the room was so heavy, a pin would be easy to find if dropped. “I apologize, my lady, but do you mind elaborating on that?” “That isn’t what you’re here for. Her scars, what can be done about them?” Caspian cut in. Was that why he called a doctor so early in the morning? “They can’t be removed with normal medicines or remedies. Scars like that can only be removed by either holy water or a strong healing substance. Both might be found in the Black Market if you want to risk dealing with those tricky Elves.”

"No infection. The scarring should be minimal." "Will they go away completely?" I asked. "Probably not," Corin said honestly. "Rejection wounds rarely fade entirely. But they'll be less noticeable over time." I touched my neck, feeling the raised skin. "So I'll always have a reminder." "Of what you survived," Corin said. "Not what you lost." He moved to check my ribs where silver mist pack had kicked me. I lifted my shirt and he pressed carefully along my side. "Does this hurt?"

There was a reason many of the werewolves steered clear of Delphine, choosing other medics to tend to their wounds. She had skin as dark as the night sky, warm from its rich brown tint. There were splotches of white skin around her mouth, left eye, down her neck, and on both arms that she’d once told me was due to a skin condition called Vitiligo. I’d found the two contrasts in colors interesting as a young teen, and Delphine had been more than happy to educate me.

She was back to her simple life, but now again, there was no one to take care of her. She finished her breakfast and kept the plate in the sink; she came to her room and picked her bag. While leaving her sight went towards her reflection in the mirror, she kept staring herself, and after a few seconds; she removed her hair from her forehead and saw the scar mark there. 1.5 months back, her stitches got removed, and the doctor gave her one cream to lighten her scar. It was a deep scar, so the doctor told her it would take time to lighten that scar. Today also it’s a deep one, but now it’s all white, not that red one which it was when the doctor removed her stitches.

her nose then became sour, and tears began welling in her eyes. One could easily imagine how she felt after seeing the scar that remained of Leon's heroics when saving her the last night. The next moment, however, a curious scene appeared. With Iris's touch, the scars began to peel off bit by bit, revealing fresh baby-like pink skin underneath. Iris was dumbfounded. It would usually take at least a month or two for scars to fully form and disappear, yet that was exactly what happened even though it had only been less than a day since the wound was first inflicted. Amazingly, there were no traces of the scar on his new skin.

Ever since Eva ripped and burned my face, I'd had a livid scar that extended from the corner of my right eye down the cheek. Now, though, the tear track scar was a paler shade of pink. The shiny tissue felt softer when I touched it. How had that happened? None of the creams or medicines I'd dared to try had ever worked.