Marvel: I Am The Fated Villain!

{A/N: Okay, So this chapter was just kind of a prologue so I admit it's quality wasn't that good. Though I would appreciate if you drop some comments}

In a massive stone house—so grand it could easily be mistaken for a palace—nestled deep in ancient Scandinavia, a woman sat in serene silence.

Her long, pitch-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, a stark contrast to her piercing blood-red eyes that held an almost unnatural depth.

With slow, tender movements, she ran her fingers over the slight swell of her pregnant belly, her expression calm, unaware of the absolute chaos unfolding within her.

Unbeknownst to her, a small-scale war was raging inside her womb.

Meanwhile, inside…

"GUGU GAGA GUGA GAGA!" (Translation: "HAHAHA! COME TO DADDY!")

Within the confines of that belly, three babies—two males and one female—were engaged in what could only be described as a full-blown battlefield.

One of the male babies, his barely formed eyes gleaming with unhinged excitement, was going absolutely feral. He was pummeling his siblings as if prenatal beatdowns were some kind of twisted hobby he picked up before even being born.

"WAH WAH!" (Translation: "DIE, YOU DEMON!")

The other two weren't just going to take this lying down—well, technically, they didn't have much choice in the matter—but they fought back with everything their tiny, undeveloped limbs could muster.

Flailing, kicking, and throwing what could generously be called "punches," they struggled to fend off their brother's relentless onslaught.

Unfortunately for them, their efforts were futile. Again and again, they got their tiny asses handed to them, as if they were nothing more than training dummies in this lunatic's prenatal combat regime.

Now, you're probably wondering—what the hell is going on here? Babies throwing hands inside a womb? Yeah, this isn't exactly normal.

To make sense of this madness, let's rewind a few months…

'Ugh… Where the hell am I? Who am I?'

These were the first thoughts that slammed into me as I found myself floating in some kind of slimy, viscous liquid. It was dark—really dark.

Not the kind of darkness where you just close your eyes. No, this was different. This was the kind of suffocating blackness where you can't see a damn thing, but you can feel everything.

The walls around me were soft yet firm, like I was trapped inside some fleshy cocoon. It pulsed faintly, surrounding me on all sides, holding me in place like I was nothing more than an afterthought.

I didn't know where I was. Hell, I didn't even know what I was. My mind was blank—no memories, no past, nothing to latch onto for context.

And yet… I understood language. I knew what I was thinking. I understood words and concepts, but there was no origin, no anchor to tell me who I used to be.

Something felt off.

My body felt small. Weak.

I could sense it, but I couldn't move it. No matter how much I tried to twitch, flex, or even stretch, it was like my limbs weren't fully mine yet.

And it wasn't just that—I could feel my surroundings too. It was cramped, wet, and there were strange vibrations rippling through the space around me.

But all I could see was pitch-black nothingness.

'What the fuck is going on?'

And then—out of nowhere—a voice.

A cold, eerie voice that slithered into my thoughts like a serpent.

"KILL THEM ALL! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

'What the fuck…'

My mind barely had time to process before I felt them—two other presences.

They were close. Really close. And alive.

My senses sharpened, and suddenly, in this strange, suffocating space, I could see them.

Tiny, wriggling figures, moving slightly in the liquid. Their shapes were vague, but the resemblance was clear—babies.

Wait… if they're babies…

Does that mean I'm a baby too?

…Shit.

Damn right, I'm a baby.

"EAT THEM!!! EAT THEM!!! HAHAHAHA!"

That voice again.

Cold. Sinister. Crawling under my skin like it belonged there.

It wouldn't stop. It hammered into my mind, repeating over and over again like some twisted, demonic chant.

Each time it spoke, it whispered something worse.

"Eat your twins. Devour them. Consume everything."

At first, I was horrified.

What kind of monster would I be if I did that?

But the voice didn't stop. It was always there. Every moment, lurking, whispering, corrupting.

And slowly—without even realizing it—I felt myself changing.

The horror started to fade.

The voice didn't seem so foreign anymore.

And before I knew it… I was becoming exactly what it wanted me to be.

Something darker.

Something cruel.

The Devil.

'No! I WON'T EAT MY SIBLINGS, NO MATTER WHAT!'

I roared in my mind, refusing to give in to this fucking demonic bastard whispering in my head.

The voice had been relentless, filling my thoughts with dark urges, but I was not going to become some kind of in-womb cannibal. Nope. Not happening.

I was standing my ground. Well… metaphorically speaking. Because I couldn't actually stand. Or even move properly. But still! My willpower was strong!

And then…

"GU GA!"

Before I could even process what was happening, something hit me.

A tiny, squishy little fist slammed right into the side of my face.

What the hell?!

My barely functioning baby brain struggled to comprehend what just happened. But before I could react, my other sibling—this backstabbing little gremlin—grabbed my arms, pinning me down like I was some kind of criminal.

This was definitely not something I saw coming.

Like… What?!

"GU GAUG AGAGA! (THANKS FOR THE MEAL!)"

The one holding my hands actually had the audacity to lean in—mouth wide open—and chomp down on my tiny shoulder like a rabid little beast.

And I'm not talking about a gentle baby nibble—NO. This little shit had rows of sharp, shark-vampire teeth, and it sank them in with full force.

I froze for a moment.

My brain completely short-circuited.

'OW—WHAT THE FUCK?!'

A sharp, stinging pain shot through me, and all at once, my survival instincts screamed to life.

"GAUGAGAGGA! (STOP BITING ME, YOU FREAK!)"

I flailed like a madman, trying to shake off this demonic parasite, but the bastard held on tight—like a tiny, murderous leech that just discovered its first meal.

Was this thing even a baby?! Who the hell gets born with a full set of Campire teeth?!

For a moment, my mind derailed.

Wait… vampire?

What the hell is a vampire?

That was a weird word that popped up. Maybe it was something from my past life?

No, wait! That's not important right now!

The real question is—

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THESE LITTLE SHITS?!

This wasn't just some casual sibling scuffle. This was war.

I tried to yank my arms free, but the grip of my second sibling was surprisingly strong. It was like this womb was running some kind of prenatal gym program.

I had no choice.

It was time to throw hands.

So, I did what any sensible, self-respecting baby would do…

BANG!

With all the strength my underdeveloped baby arm could muster, I swung my tiny fist and decked the little vampire bastard square in the face.

For the first time since this insanity started—

It. Let. Go.

I felt the tiny set of teeth rip out of my shoulder, and the little demon reeled back, flailing dramatically in the womb-fluid like I just hit it with a damn truck.

THAT'S RIGHT! HOW DOES MY PUNCH TASTE, HUH?! TELL ME, BITCH!

"GU GAGA(THANKS FOR HAND)" The one I punched said with a delightful 

Third Person POV

Fast forward to the present…

"GUGUGAGA!" (TRANSLATION: "I AM HUNGRY!")

The main baby, now fully embracing his violent urges, screamed out as he grabbed his brother by the throat and his sister by the head, slamming them together with brutal force.

The wet sound of their tiny skulls cracking echoed in the dark womb. He didn't stop there.

Over and over again, he bashed them into each other, the soft, fragile flesh bruising and splitting, blood slowly seeping out and staining the surrounding fluid.

Both of them began to bleed, their fragile bodies shuddering in pain, and that sight—oh, that sight—sent a euphoric wave through his tiny form.

He reveled in it. The violence, the bloodshed—it felt good. Too good. It was like a drug.

"EAT THEM! EAT THEM! EAT THOSE DEMONS!"

The cold, familiar voice returned, pounding in his head like a sick rhythm. But by now, he had learned to ignore the voice itself, even if he never ignored its advice.

A twisted grin formed on his face—or at least as much of a grin as a baby could manage.

Without hesitation, he lunged forward, sinking his teeth—yes, somehow, he already had sharp little teeth—into the soft flesh of his twin brother.

Blood squirted into his mouth, the taste metallic and primal, fueling him further. He didn't stop.

He bit down harder, gnawing at his siblings, devouring them piece by piece, the taste of flesh and blood filling his senses.

His hands smeared red as he continued to tear them apart, the lifeless bodies of his brother and sister offering no more resistance.

And the more he ate, the more the hunger grew, consuming every inch of his newborn mind.

And just like that, our little psychopath of an MC devoured his siblings without a second thought, their flesh fueling his already growing power.

The womb, once a battlefield of squirming babies, was now eerily quiet, soaked in the remains of what had once been his brother and sister.

The only movement left was his—content, full, and thriving in the bloodbath he had caused.

Time marched on, and with every passing day, his body matured at an unnatural speed.

Whatever dark force was driving him was making sure he'd be ready. His limbs grew stronger, his muscles more defined—well, as much as a fetus could have muscles.

His bones hardened, his teeth sharpened further, as if preparing him for the outside world. And somehow, he knew he was getting closer.

The voice had been quieter lately, almost as if it was waiting for something big to happen.

Then came the day.

The womb tightened around him, convulsing in a slow, rhythmic pulse. He could feel it—the contractions, the pressure.

It was time. Time for his birth. Or maybe it was more like an escape, because he didn't feel like some innocent baby being brought into the world.

No, this was more like a predator being unleashed.

As the pressure mounted, his tiny fists clenched, ready to meet whatever waited for him on the outside.

And with each tightening of the womb, it brought him closer and closer to the moment when he would finally break free.

But fortunately for me, I was able to sort the last glitch he had after I don't know.... like 21 hours of play time in two days.