My name is Rumplestiltskin. I have dwarfism, so people make fun of me a lot, but it’s all fun and games till they want something from me. That’s why I left my village many years ago, following the trails of desperation. I found a scent of desperation lingering from a castle. It was so strong, I couldn’t resist.

 Her father had practically sentenced her to death, giving her to the king, and telling him that she could spin straw into gold. I pitied the poor child. Each time I granted her wish, she would give me the only items she had on her, as tokens of appreciation. The king was greedy, he wouldn’t have her unless she had spun a room, the size of a barn, filled with straw. It took me all day and all night to help the child. 

When she became queen, she promised her first child to me, after I had told her how I have no one to keep me company. Nobody wanted me. I waited years for the child to be born, and when it was she refused to give me a companion. That’s when I began my studies of dark magic. I cursed her child to cry eternally. I haven’t pitied a soul since. They were all ungrateful. 

My dark powers were hungry, needing to feast upon souls. I devoured the souls that I deemed as selfish. I’d trick my prey by simple asking what they wanted most. If it was only they who would benefit from it, I’d curse them, and eat away their soul.

This one day, I was traveling when I saw a small wooden puppet jumping around and chanting. The dark magic that flowed through my body, it pulled me to him, it wanted him.

“I want to be a real boy! I want to be a real boy!” he would say.

That’s when I saw my opportunity. I stalked him for weeks, spying on his live. Knowing the boy wouldn’t trust a stranger, I disguised myself. I transformed into a cricket and hopped right into his and Geppetto’s tiny workshop.

I snuck into his ear, “Hello there, Pinocchio boy, I see your as energetic as always!” I whispered mellowly.

Pinocchio shook and shook his head, till I fell to the floor, “Ewww, a bug,” he lifted his foot to squish me.

Before he could slam his foot down I leaped, “Hey, watch it!” I shouted.

“Woah, it talks?” Pinocchio stood in confusion.

“Yeppers! I’m your very own conscience, whispering things in your ears, and I can make you a real boy,” I rumored.

“A… real boy? Oh please Mr.Cricket turn me into a real boy!” Pinocchio begged

I pulled out a rolled up piece of paper from my pocket, “All you have to do is sign this contract.” 

The poor fool signed it in a heartbeat, well if he had one. When he signed, the deal was sealed with a gold flash, and the contract disappearing into sparkling particles. Such an innocent and pure, but selfish, soul. I turned him into a human alright, a human soul collector. 

His wood became skin, his strings vanished, his heat beated, Pinocchio was human. 

“I’m a real boy! I’m a real boy!” Pinocchio cheered. 

Seconds later, his body began to mutate. He grew tall and muscular, long jagged fangs peeked out his mouth, and his back hunched over. He became my tool. 

“What’s happening to me?” Pinocchio cried.

“You’re becoming my collector of souls, should’ve read the fine print, you poor child,” I sneered.

“You’ll lose consciousness right about now, nighty night,” I waved goodbye.

His eyes rolled to the back of , nothing was left of this puppets former self. Rampaging, Pinocchio threw his bookshelf to the ground, smashed his dresser, and crushed his bed. His first victim came running up the stairs. Geppetto came running through the door, but he was unprepared for the horror that was to come. 

Pinocchio’s attention shifted from the rubble of the room, to the terrified look on Geppetto’s face. He rushed toward Geppetto with murderous intent. Towering over Geppetto, Pinocchio backhanded him, sending him flying into the wall. As Geppetto hit the wall, a loud cracking noise came from his back. The scent of iron danced around the room, scarlet read blood ran down Geppetto’s mouth. 

With his last breath, Geppetto muttered, “Pinocchio, my son, what has become of you? You must snap out of this.” He was now a wooden, hollow shell.

Pincchio’s flesh began to turn to wood, but it did not last. He was still a monster in human form. I sent him throughout his town, to take the souls of all who he came in contact with. After his victims would die, they would turn to wood. No one was left. Pinocchio searched high and low in his village for more souls, but there was none.

I decide to release Pinocchio from the contract after his village was wiped out. Pinocchio’s eyes fluttered back to normal. He hobbled back to the workshop, and ran back to Gepetto’s side. He held Geppeto’s wooden body in his tiny, wooden arms, and carried him away. He managed to carry Geppeto, who was three times his size, all the way to the docks. He collapsed into the water, both of them floated out to sea. A whale known as Monstro, swallowed them whole. Pinocchio lived out the rest of his life with his guilt, eating away his soul. As for me, Rumplestilskin, I stayed as the cricket in his ear, who haunted him until the end.