You humans think we're all the same. Well, we're not. We have identities too. We have friends, family, status, groups, you name it. You humans think yourself so superior. You think of us as animals with superpowers. You must feel so proud of yourself, sitting in a cozy house that you lived a cozy childhood and catered to by cozy parents. Of course, unlike you, we live every day of our lives wondering whether that juvenile human was going to rush out of the grass with one of those stinking pokeballs and whisk you away from everything you ever knew.
Or, well, most of us do.
I grew up hoping for the day that a trainer would be able to tame me...
Because if it didn't come, I would kill every pokemon around me.
I guess I should explain myself.
You see, on my head I have this... um...
Oh, you know how when you get really upset and you... Wait, that doesn't make sense.
You know what, I'm just going to tell you my story.
My troubles in life began on my first birthday...
When I was just a little baby Mawile, my life was perfectly peachy. I lived with my mother, a sweet, caring lady, and completely obsessed with diamonds. She also happened to be the only other pokemon I knew, but that didn't stop me from having fun. I was an only child, and I had never seen my father, so my mom could devote 100% of her time to me. She would play with me, entertain me, help me fall asleep, and basically cater to my every whim. I was being spoiled absolutely rotten, and loving every minute of it. Every day was made just for me, and every night was just a temporary reprieve in my utopian existence. Of course, my mother did little to dispel this fragile misconception, and played along with me all the same.
But even while she smiled, I could always sense a twinge of... Something behind her eyes. Was it fear? Anger? Regret? I couldn't tell. But it was there, and the feeling of some unknown inconvenience invading my world bugged me whenever I noticed it.
So one day, I finally asked her a question that would help me figure out what was wrong, so I could flatten that single irritating wrinkle in my happiness.
"Mommy?" I whined one night as we were laying down to sleep.
"Yes, honey?" she responded, smiling as she held me in her arms.
"Where's Daddy?" I asked, looking my mom straight in the eyes. I was sure his absence was related to the problem.
Upon hearing my question, my mom frowned, something I had rarely, if ever, seen her do. She was silent for a long time, just sitting there with me in her arms.
"I can't tell you that," she whispered, so quietly that I hadd to strain to hear her when her mouth was only a few inches away from my face.
I was shocked. "What? Why not?" I screamed, exasperation in every syllable.
My mom smiled again. "Because, honey, there are some things you don't need to know untill you're older."
"But I am older," I pouted. "I'm almost a whole year old." I crossed my arms, waiting for a rebuttal to my logic.
Suddenly, without a warning, mom let out a single, gasping sob. It sounded nasty coming from her mouth, garbled with black emotion. I looked at her, eyes open wide, not knowing what to do.
Instantly, she was back to her usual, cheerful self. "That's right, honey. I had forgotten," she said soothingly. "How about this: I'll tell you where Daddy went on your birthday. Does that sound fine?" she asked, her smile never quivering.
"Ummm... Sure," I muttered, not really sure what to make of this confusing confrontation. But I consoled myself with the fact that I would get my answers soon. My birthday was only a week away, after all...
The following week flew by in a blur of familiar activities and happiness. I lost myself in these distractions, not knowing that it would be the last time I would be able to act so care-free, or innocent, or happy. If only I had known.
Finally, the fateful day arrived. It was my 1st birthday, and I was ready to enjoy every minute of it. Unfortunately, it didn't work out quite like that. I was having terrible stomach cramps, absolutely horrible ones that wracked my entire frame and left me helplessly curled up in my mothers arms.
Of course, I was moaning in pain, and the sound quickly woke my mother up. But instead of comforting me, she just stared at me. At least, I think she was. It was kind of hard to tell because my eyes were blurred with tears.
"M-Mommy!" I whimpered pitifully. "I'm hurt!"
"Yes Honey," she whispered back. "I know."
I stared at her, my mouth agape in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Well, Honey, it's time for your birthday present." She whispered in a voice devoid of any feeling. "I was going to tell you where daddy was," she continued as she stared into space, her eyes unfocused. "You see, it all began way back during the beginning of our kind. We were a vain and jealous species, the Mawile, and we would spend just as much time flaunting our beautiful hair as we would hating those who were stronger than the Mawile clan. We were so jealous of their strength that our ancestors tried pleading with Arceus to grant the Mawile more power than any other pokemon," she shook her head sadly.
"Mommy!" I whimpered with all the strength I could muster. "I need help!"
She continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Of course he refused. He warned us to stop our quest for power, but the Mawiles wouldn't listen. So instead, they turned to Giratina. After a long, arduous search, they found him, and pledged themselves to him in order to grow stronger. He then gave the Mawile clan great power, but at the cost of their beautiful hair. The Mawiles were outraged, and demanded that Darkrai give them back what belonged to them," she rambled on, staring above my head with those dead eyes.
Suddenly, the horrible cramps worsened, and my head was split open by the worst headache I had ever experienced. I screamed, a loud piercing howl that seemed to have no effect on my mother. She continued to mutter her story in a flat, toneless voice.
"Giratina was merciful, and gave them their hair back. But when the Mawiles discovered that he had taken their new powers back in exchange for the hair, they turned on him, trying in vain to gain power by force. Giratina beat them all near to death in an instant," she whispered emotionlessly. At this point she dropped me, still screaming, onto the hard rock surface, and continued to stare at my head. "To punish the Mawiles for betraying him, he cursed them with the power that they had sought so foolishly. But it would forever be out of their reach to control, for it would be contained in the very hair they valued so much. They became monsters, unable to control the bestial urges that wracked them, powerless to stop themselves from attacking the pokemon who tried to help them or restrain them. The Mawiles then separated, searching for the most desolate locations they could find so that the world would be free of the monsters they had become."
"But it didn't end there. Not even the children of the cursed Mawile were spared. They inherited the same terrible curse that afflicted their parents, and those who managed to suppress the urge to attack those close to them soon died of a terrible hunger no regular food could cure." Here she stopped dead, and just stared at me.
The headache of mine was only getting worse. It felt like my veins had been filled with acid that was slowly seeping into my scalp. I began crying out for anyone who would be able to stop the pain. "MOMMY! DADDY!" I screamed, my throat already hoarse from the constant yelling.
My mother stirred slightly upon hearing me. She looked into my eyes and said in a dead voice, "Don't you understand, sweetheart? Daddy was your first meal. And I am your second." Her eyes grew distant and hazy then, as if her spirit had already left her body.
And then the pain was gone.
I didn't know what happened. I stared around, shivering, searching for the reason that I had recovered.
Then a rumbling growl sounded through the air right beside my ear.
I looked up, trembling, and stared open-mouthed at my long black hair. Except it wasn't my hair. It couldn't be. Hair doesn't have teeth, or move by itself.
The gaping, toothed maw my hair had become growled again, and nudged itself in the direction my mom was sitting in. I glimpsed a drop of saliva ooze from its mouth as it seemed to smell my mother.
"No," I whispered in desperation, knowing instantly what was coming next but hoping with every fiber of my being it wasn't true.
The maw opened wide and reached towards my mother, still sitting helplessly in her death-like trance. It's incisors widened further, preparing for a final plunge into flesh.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I yelled, unable to move, to run, to save my mother, or anything, as the razor-sharp teeth sliced into my mother's skin.
The last thing I remember before a blissful void of unconsciousness enveloped me was the terrible grating of flesh being ripped apart.
After what seemed like years of empty dreams, I woke to find a scene of carnage, and sitting in the middle of it all was a single diamond. My mother had loved diamonds. She always had one on her...
So. Now you know what I am. I need help fast, or the cave I'm living in could easily become a graveyard. But I don't know if I can wait for a trainer. I need to do something now before this monster living on my head completely overtakes my life and turns me into a demon of mass destruction...
But what am I supposed to do?
End of Prologue
Hello! This is PsychComposer, and I want to start off by saying that I am really thankful to all of you readers who took the time to read my story. If you could, I would really appreciate it if you left a comment saying what you think of my story. I'm fully open to criticism, so fire away.
Also. This might end up just being a one-shot, but I am seriously considering turning this into a full story. If you want to see more of Marcy the Mawile (that's her name, by the way. It was never relevant in the story for her to say her own name, so here it is) then please say so. I'm really kind of on the fence about writing her story, so any encouragement will likely speed up when the next chapter will appear.
Well, that's all for now. Hopefully untill next time, see ya, and Psych Out.