Name that Scar!

[CaptaiN_JacK]

Lately I've been wearing my hair back, revealing the massive scar on my head, and I've been getting quite a few "wow I've never seen that scar, what happened?" (it's from a car accident 4 years ago).

I've been getting bored with the usual (truthful) explanation so I started making up stories: I got a partial lobotomy when I was a teenager(followed by a long, hollow stare over the persons shoulder), I got attacked by a pit bull, I had my frontal lobes removed, etc etc.

But my imagination only goes so far so now I'm asking AO for more fictional stories!

Picture of scar:

[trevorjk]

you were the first attempt at being zorro. and they let the intern cut the scar

[snoopay700]

You're the person J.K. Rowling based Harry Potter on.

[tribalman]

you were out skating boarding when you did a kickflip 540 over a cark, you hit the ramp and start the flip and turn when your foot catches on the antenna. your head ended up continuing while your feet stopped. your head slammed into the windshield. you were still conscious (getting you some man points here ) and when you lifted your head up there was a huge piece of glass stuck in your head. you then pulled it out yourself and stitched it up yourself in a mirror. you then attempted the trick again and succeeded.


or you can say say that you were in a movie once and were the main character. when the guy who plays the killer was supposed to attack you in the climatic scene were you courageously fought back, the dude was supposed to pick up the breakaway 2by4 and smash it over your head but he picked up a real piece. it ended up breaking your skull. because you were going to be in the hospital for a while they ended up picking someone else for the part.

[TwilightG]

"Ever see the movie 'Face Off'? ..."

[MoeMag]

Hair transplant from an organ donor.

[wimag]

Beer bottle scar defending your womans honor

[trevorjk]

Beer bottle scar defending your womans honor

or mans, which ever you prefer

[Crown Mods]

You had depression problems

[michbich]

Built-in cell phone entenna.

[CaptaiN_JacK]

You're the person J.K. Rowling based Harry Potter on.

I'll have to go as Harry Potter for Halloween sometime.

I could always claim I'm an alien occupying a human's body.

[TeamBob]

hair cut

tried to cut ur own hair, with a striaght razor

[psychowarden]

You are a special forces soldier, to the world, you don't exist, for your enemy, you exist for the only split second when they realize they have been shot to the point their life flame is extinguished. Your mission is to infiltrate an enemy encampment in the mountain range of a country society isn't allowed to know about.

The year...was 1997, you were but a lone soldier now, your squad had been eliminated in the ambush some 20 clicks back. You were wounded in the knee from the frag from an enemy grenade. You trek through the rainforest looking for the leaves you need to bandage your leg and proceed with the mission. 20 men, or 1 man, the mission must be completed, or the government as we know it shall cease to exist.

You find the leaves, just before it's too late, you get the poultice placed around your injury, just before passing out from copious blood loss

-----

You wake up several hours later, reach for your firearm, and get it ready too late...surrounded. Taken hostage by the very enemy you were hunting but 10 hours ago. They cuff you, and drag you through the forest to their camp 2 leagues away.

*Smack* "Who sent you?!" The man screams at you *smack*

You simply smirk and respond, "You know, usually you are supposed to give me a chance to answer before hitting me again."

*Thud* the butt of an AK is thrust into your stomach and you keel over coughing up blood.

"Silly soldier, you will find no mercy here in exchange for your 'witty' remarks. Now I will ask you again, who sent you?"

Bruised and broken physically, you wearily raise your head to look your assailant in the eyes and respond "His name....is Peewee....Peewee Herman. He...He just wants his bike back."

The man looks down upon you in fury.

"I tire of your insolence."

The last thing you see is a rifle butt just before it hits you.

-----

The time, is unknown. Your location, also unknown. Will survival become reality, more unknown than the previous. You lift your body up from the rough wooden floor, and see the red stain where your head was, and a searing pain splits through your head as you sit upright, and you realize the left side of your face is caked in blood.

They have left food in the holding cell, a meager amount, barely enough to feed a small dog. But you wolf it down as if you hadn't eaten in days, for all you know, you haven't. It's not much, but it helps ease the pain you feel for hunger in your stomach.

This process continues for several days, a week maybe. Wake up, be tortured, answer and reveal nothing, be beaten, and then returned to your cell where the meager scraps referred to as food awaited you.

------

By your guess, it was 21:00, you laid in your cell in meditation, centering your body to reduce the burning of the brands that were now forever on your back. And that's when you heard it.

The roar of an F-17 approaching from the south, the scream of a rocket and seconds later the explosion it made as it shook the fortifications of the camp. Three more rockets followed suit as the guard towers on the east and west entrances were incinerated. Off in the distance, a dull thud, which you quickly recognized as a .50 cal sniper, and four more thuds resounded in the distance, all from different locations, and you knew, with each shot from those well aimed rifles, an enemy fell.

Sound of M-4 fire erupted as troops stormed the camp. There was much return fire at first, from AKs and cheap black market .50 machine guns. But the sounds of the guards rifles stopped quickly as the munition of the invaders' M-4s ripped through them like scissors through paper.

For the first time in days, you are excited, blood flows through your body hotly, like that of liquid fire as you hear heavy footsteps on the wooden steps leading up to your cell. The door is kicked in and three soldiers pour in with their firearms at the ready, "Clear!" one yells, and two more enter.

"What took you so long?" You ask as they cut your bonds.

"The scenery was too pretty to pass up Sir." one of them responds.

The body of your torturer was never found, and it was deemed he escaped the assault on the camp, and resides somewhere in Asia, planning the next attack upon the civilized world.

------


There are a select few that know of what occurred in that hellish week. And very few reminders of the events passed. You, a trained killing machine, easily put the memories behind you, but only one scar haunts you daily, every time you look in the mirror. Just the scar upon your forehead that reminds you of the man that ruthlessly beat you, the man that you swear, you will hunt down and kill.

[BobTheCow]

Knife fight. Always a knife fight.

"Yeah, you should have seen the other guy!'

[bornl33t]

You are a pirate and the story goes like this:

Lost your leg to canon ball from a Spanish war ship during a high seas battle. Your hand? You lost it in a sword fight with a British captain and now have a hook. The scar? "ARRRRG, that be a different tale. I was standing at the bow of my ship, wind in my hair, sails a full and a seagull pooped in me face.....first day with the hook."