How strong is the curse of a Ninetales? Stronger than Arceus itself. The lengths that the curse will go to just to enforce its effect is frightening. Take me, for example. I was a Machoke when my brother and I touched those accursed tails. Want to know what happened?

For touching my sacred tails, you shall be cursed to one thousand years of endless fighting.

The fighting was nothing less than brutal. No, it didn't mean arguing, nor did it mean hating each other. What it meant was combat. Rage took control of us like a parasite. Oh…did I mention my brother was younger than me and only a Machop while I was a Machoke?

Neither of us spoke as we looked at each other, both of us having our eyes locked in a glare. He tried to strike, but I made the first move. I grabbed his skull, lifted him up and smashed him as hard as I could into the ground. Normally, that would've been enough to kill him. He lived. I wish he had died, but I guess it wouldn't have mattered either way. Wanna know what happened after that? He tried to attack me. It failed, horribly, I might add, but my brother just kept trying. The only result was a horrible beat down.


He was screaming pretty damn loudly, and I kept attacking him. The Ninetales whose tails we touched had tried to stop us, to no avail. Every time she got in the way, I threw her out of it. If she attacked, it wouldn't hurt me. I didn't feel anything except the overwhelming desire to destroy my brother. Eventually, she gave up and left.

I can't stop them; no-one can.

She was right. Days passed, and neither of us let up in our efforts to obliterate the other. Residential Pokémon tried everything they could to stop us. Some Alakazam tried putting a barrier in-between us. Effortlessly, I plowed through it as if there wasn't actually a barrier in place. Ten minutes later, while I was throwing my brother into a tree, I caught a glimpse of that Alakazam glowing with a blue energy. To this day, I still wonder what he was doing.

Countless more failures happened. I remember a pack of Houndoom approaching us during one night. Snarling, they all lunged at once after failing to get our attention, but were all immediately blown away by an unknown force before they could make contact. No matter what they tried, it didn't work; their attacks were either redirected back at them or were absorbed by an invisible barrier. We would not be their prey.

Some kinder Pokémon tried to talk us out of fighting with tears streaming down their faces. Seeing them like that…I feel really bad now that I look back on it.

P-Please stop hurting each other!

They were literally on their knees, if they had them, begging us to stop. They begged, and they begged. We never stopped, nor could we explain why we were fighting. No-one knew why we were fighting, or how it was possible that we never stopped, never got hurt or even needed to eat. Nothing stopped us; not even Mother Nature. The seasons raged with blazing summers, chilling winters, and windy autumns, yet we did not falter. Even when the forest was caught in a massive fire, we were the only ones who didn't bother to leave. Our curse protected us.

Even as the years passed, my brother and I would not get older. Decades passed, centuries flew by, and nothing changed. My brother never did land many hits against me. Mainly, it was just me thrashing the shit out of him. It probably looks bad for all of those witnessing it. I probably look like some cold, cruel, sadistic fuck who mercilessly beat his little brother, who was only a child, for one thousand years. Nobody knows the full story though, but then again, nobody asked. Why am I writing this?

Because I want to remember the story behind my brother and me, and why we're here. The instant one thousand years were up, we fell to dust. Both of us found ourselves in the afterlife, trembling. My brother immediately hugged me; that curse had given us a scar we would never forget. I could only hug him back, and tell him that it was all right now. We were dead, but we were safe.

We're not gonna fight any more, bro.

A-Are you sure?


We'll never forget what a Ninetales can do, and neither should anyone who reads this. Be careful.