A/N: Hey, guys! I apologize for not updating in a literal month. I've been busy with family things and I've had a bit of an author's block, but I remembered I had this and decided to finally put it out there. I promise, I'm trying to work on new chapters for HH as fast as I can!
Our hero.
Nobody would guess who we'd say if we asked them the question. Who is our hero?
Is it Mario? Definitely not.
He's trounced us way too many times to be any hero of ours.
Is it the commander of our troop? Not quite, although his fierce loyalty to the king and excellent leadership skills are to be admired.
Our hero.
Nobody would agree if we told them.
But that's just the thing.
Nobody understands.
Nobody has ever taken the time to question. Why? Why do we call him our hero?
For some of us, the answer is easy and quick.
For others, like me, however, the answer is deeper, more complicated to answer.
Being a goomba, you're already at one of the bottom tiers in the natural pecking order. It only takes one hit, and you're KO'd.
I guess you could say he 'saved' me.
He was, and will always be, my hero. Our hero.
I was younger, more naive. Got scared easily. Very anxious.
I was always getting picked on for being the smallest. The youngest. The stupidest. The easiest to frighten.
My parents were taken from me at a young age. They'd gotten stomped by some bigger monster. I had grown accustomed to being alone, living on whatever I could find.
I grew used to death. It was simply a natural cycle of life. You're born. You live. You die. It was all meaningless, boring.
I grew accustomed to going hungry. I was so hungry that at times you could see my skeleton. I became so hungry that I was often ravenous, eating whatever moved, from fruits, to mushrooms, to other goombas. I was living as a cannibal for quite some time.
At times, food was so scarce that I had to fight for it. I bet you can guess who won most of the battles that took place.
My fighting spirit nearly got me killed one day.
I pissed off the wrong person, er, being.
It was a big fight. It drew spectators from nearby plains and forests.
I fought almost to my last breath.
All of it over a stupid mushroom.
I know, I know. It seems like cannibalism, since we're so mushroom-like.
I was backed up to a boulder, quivering, one eye swollen shut.
As my foe leered at me, the body looming over me, dark as the night, I braced myself for the final blow.
Half a minute passed. A minute passed.
I opened my eye and saw that the other being had been KO'd, and Bowser was standing over me. Protecting me. The feared king of the koopas...fighting for the life of a lowly goomba.
He roared and instantly everything scattered. It was as if Mario had come through. It was deserted.
He looked at me. He looked at me good and hard. He said words that would stick with me until this day.
"Never give up that fighting spirit. The day you stop fighting is the day you die."
I was taken to his castle and bandaged up. I ate more food than I had seen in my entire life. I slept in a bed that seemed heavenly when juxtaposed with the bed of grass and horsetails that had been my home for ten years.
I met fellow goombas who shared their stories of how they got there. Tales of being trounced by Mario, being driven out of their homes, being turned away from other lands for being subordinate.
I laughed for the first time. I smiled, truly smiled, for the first time.
I truly felt like I belonged. I do feel like I belong.
He allowed me to stay, to train up, to serve him.
I accepted readily.
Bowser the Koopa king is my hero.
Bowser the Koopa king is our hero.
And I will fight for him and with him until the day I die.
Until the day we die.
A/N: I know, I know, it's pretty short. I wasn't really looking for length when I first wrote this some months ago, but I like to think it got the point across. You never know the life stories of the enemies you defeat. For all you know, in their lifetime you are the antagonist. I'm probably reading too much into this. Nevertheless, I thank you for reading this really short story.