Starcrash Lovers

My name is Deathmaw...  Or at least that's what my Elder's call me. I assume it's from the large second mouth on my stomach, I don't like it. It's a constant reminder of what I am, a deformed thing. I wasn't born right, it sometimes happens with us, a genetic mutation. Unlike most Garoul, we aren't born either human or lykos, and are born in our battle form. Already shifted, already fully Garoul, and while that might be a blessing to some outsiders, it is a curse on those like me. We are seen as unnatural abominations, a stain on the Garoul society. Whether it was from bad breeding or some kind of sin the parents had committed, we are a punishment. My mother, like most mothers who give birth to Garoul like us, died horrifically. I tore and ate through her womb as she gave birth to me in a state of a frenzy. Garoul have a hard time controlling their rage, we are creatures of death and destruction, so an infant who already able to shift upon birth doesn't have the control or training to contain their natures.  With the death of my mother, my father left, refusing to claim me. I was nothing but a monster. A shameful stain on his reputation and I am sure if he had his way, he would have just ended my life as they did in the old days when one of us was born this way. However modern times call for modern solutions, it was considered a waste to kill one like me, I could still be of some use and value. I could serve the Garoul but I would never be one of them in certain regards. I would never hold high-ranking positions, I would never be an Alpha of my own pack, and I would also not be allowed to mate. I could have relationships, but marriage and the status that came with it were out of the question. I would never be worthy enough to have those things, I would always be at the bottom. The Omega of every pack I join, the outcast, the mistrusted, and no one would want me as anything more than just cannon fodder or a scapegoat.  That is my role in life. It was just the way of things, and I am content with it. Eventually, I will be able to shed this name that the Elders have given me, make one of my own, and be able to have my name written in the Halls of Heroes, that's all someone like me can ask for. I have resolved the fact that I will be alone and unwanted,  but at least I can die a hero that served some kind of purpose.  How f*****g noble... For now, I just bide my time like a good pup, trapped in this facility. I have never seen the sun, touched the earth, or seen another person outside of my Elders and mentor. I haven't learned how to fully shift into my human or lykos forms, and until I do, I am confined in this room. This room made out of reinforced concrete in case I lose control, only let out occasionally for studies to another reinforced room, deep underground from the rest of civilization. It's not just for my safety, but for the safety of human eyes. They can't know about us, and I am a walking testament that other creatures exist. It would cause a panic, and while I understand, I feel the burning call inside of me to run wild. I am nothing more than an animal in a zoo, pacing in my confines wondering what freedom tastes like. I keep practicing under the fluorescent lights, trying to shift into my other forms but it's difficult. Walking on human feet is painful, walking on all fours is clumsy, being in my battle form is easier. Human senses are weaker as I feel blind and deaf, but lykos is overwhelming, I can hear and smell everything to the point I whimper in hopes it would end.  I end up lashing out in rage, reverting back into my battle form. My mentor is the one who usually has to put me down. It becomes a fight for survival for her every time, which is probably an added reason why she is so distant and cold with me. She can't help it, every instinct she has tells her to hate me, I was born wrong and while her nature tells her to tear me apart, she remains in control and tutors me dutifully. She is not cruel or malicious, she just isn't warm but she is the closest thing to a mother I have. So every time I lose control, I end up feeling pangs of guilt. I want what everyone else wants, acceptance and love but that's just not in the stars for Cursed Garoul like myself.