His chest sports a crescent of sunken tissue. Five puncture wounds have been reopened again and again, never allowed to fully heal, leaving the surrounding flesh permanently tender. A thick, pale scar crosses his left bicep, and his left hand bears an ugly stigmata.
"Wanna touch it?"
He asks it of every acquaintance he's ever gotten alone, to see if they would push their fingers into his wounds and really get to know him. To see if they wanted to know.
So far, the monster that lives inside Malik is the only one to take him up on the invitation.