A/N: Written for the Mega Prompts Challenge, word prompts 289 – knife.
Marks of the Heart
He didn't care how they beat and battered and burned him. He had his own chains, that were carved far more deeply and by his own hand, and bled far more profusely than anything they could do to him. That name – those symbols curved on to his chest with a finality –
They couldn't take that away from him. Nothing could. Not when they covered his chest with bruises black and blue. Not when the marks he'd carved were covered by blood and scrubbing wounds.
He'd carved that name so deeply, nothing would move it. And, when finally his captors backed away and let his body heal, he carved that name again, even deeper despite his body cringing away from that torturous blade…
He carved it again, so it would stand above all the other scars while he healed, and while his captors gave up trying to cut the chain loose and instead thought of how to use it as a part of their plans.
They'd tired of trying to erase a mark that just wouldn't go.