Originally it was 2100 words. The full version is 3300 words. I was going to name it 'Second Chance' when I first thought of it but when I started writing I completely forgot as I was unsure if I was going to do it.
Feedback is welcome.
***************************************************************************************************************************
I absolutely refused to believe it. I meticulously planned it all down to the minute details. I was tenacious and made sure that all the variables were covered and yet, he still loomed over me like a ghost. That is what I originally believed until I saw him in motion. That’s when I knew it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. He was made of pure flesh and bone. He was all muscle and brawn, things I lacked in that department. Moreover, he had youth on his side. That was when I made the connection.
He survived.
There was that capricious detail that did not fit. I made a mental note to censure those fools who couldn’t even complete this one simple task I asked of them. You see, they were supposed to erase any trace of the little hairball. That was supposed to make my ascension to the throne wide open. I could feel my energy drain out of me upon realizing that he had thwarted my plans.
He was no longer a chubby little cub I could wrap around my claw. He was all muscle and brute strength, just like his father. I was not going to back down easily. Oh no, I still had the cards on my side. I just had to deal carefully. In prey, you aim for the throat or the belly. I aimed for his weak spot: his conscience. I banked on memories that had withered and twisted like a vine, and I would use this to my advantage. He would still not submit when I had him before he slipped over the cliff. My victory was too sweet to savor without planting that one little nugget into his head, that final piece of the puzzle that would die with him. That I had done it and he was a scapegoat. That he was nothing more than chess piece in my game.
And that was my first fatal flaw.
The tables were turned and I could not escape. The only way out now was to finally admit my sin.
I was not expecting mercy or forgiveness. I was expecting on the hyenas to do what it is that they do best. And just like that they were on him like maggots on a piece of rotten flesh. Still, he had escaped. That’s when I realized that I was not dealing with my nephew, my brother’s son, my family. This was no longer the annoying chubby little cub who would bite my tail tuft or ruffle my mane. No longer was he the small cub who would call me refer to me as the endearing “Uncle” and annoy me into playing his little games.
This was someone who would take away what was rightfully mine. This was someone I had to make sure became scraps for the buzzards come morning. I gave it my final shot. He was spoiled, pampered, privileged. He lived in a bubble. He was no one special. He was just an entitled little hairball.
I had answered to father, I had answered to my brother. I was not about to repeat that. I used his ‘mercy’ to my advantage and planted some hot coals to distract him. I laid down the chips on the table. Now I really was wishing I had been the one to kill him that day at the gorge. At least he trusted me then and was within proximity. Now, I could not even bite him in the neck. Moreover, I was not as young as I used to be.
I had hit something solid. I found myself lying amongst the fire. I felt some pain which was a good thing as that I meant I was still breathing. I noticed Shenzi and her followers circling me. I offered sweet words and hoped that they had not heard what I said. They were not taking the bait. They came closer, looking like demons from your worst nightmares. At one point, this was my ‘second’ family, my source of comfort after that brute was chosen to rule. Now, I was no different than a zebra on its last legs. I begged and pleaded, but that only seemed to encourage them. Then I felt her leap onto me. A piercing pain shot through my spine and for a moment paralyzed me. I heard a crunch or two. Hyena jaws are very powerful if utilized correctly. I could feel bone crack and my hide break. There was no real difference between their jaws and the fire. So it all came to this. Was this the final chapter in my book?
If there is one thing I know about hyenas is that they are nothing but numbers. Brains are scattered far and few in between. If you wish to get at them, you must go after their weak points. In this case, it was Shenzi. She was my second in command. She was my consul. She was the “brains” of the group. To put it more aptly, she had more cerebral activity than those two idiots. If I was going to have a means of escape, that meant I had to go after her. I saw her standing before me. She seemed to savor my misfortune.
Schaudenfreude.
I knew I had to time it right. The fire was getting close. I saw her pace towards me. I let her get close enough to think that she was going for the death bite and that’s when I pulled my ace. I snapped my jaws shut onto her snout, using the pain from the other hyenas to transfer that exponentially onto her. She let out a blood churning cry and it was then that the hyenas focused on her. One by one, I felt them let me go as they went to help their ‘fallen’ leader. I had no time to kill her. I was using this as a distraction. There was a small opening between the fire and a rock. I held on tight until I felt I could move. If these fools were smart, they would have held me down, but I knew that I could use the chaos to make an escape. I let go and I made my getaway. I used the flames and shadows as a distraction.
My back and legs suffered contusions and cuts. I ran away to never return. Let him have Pride Rock, let him have the Pride Lands. It was a ghost town, a skeleton of its former glorious self. I lost my grip of power, but I let a small dose of pleasure comfort me: I destroyed what was his. I knew that I had to nurse my wounds and my health. I knew I needed rest and that it would be hard to find friends.
My mane was shagged and I had cuts all over. I was far from looking like royalty. I looked worse than a calf with afterbirth. I also needed to escape. There was nothing for me here. At this point, returning was far from my mind, but if the opportunity presented itself I was not one to refuse such a challenge. However, that was a remote dream and I needed to wake up from this nightmare.
I have no idea how much time passed. I do remember stopping at a clearing. I managed to tap into the water source which was well outside the savanna limits. I suppose Sarabi was not lying about the water source being dwindled. No matter, I was filling my stomach. I laid down to recharge and that was when I felt something tap into my nose. I was resting underneath a barren tree when I felt the droplets. Rain. There had been a nasty drought and the lionesses were complaining that I had funneled out the resources. I promised them that the rains would come. After all, zebra migrations are sometimes late and yet when they finally did arrive, they always arrived in larger numbers. I proceeded with my journey. I had no specific destination. Just so long as I could rest my feet without being disturbed it would be the perfect paradise.
The environment had changed from rocky to an arid, dusty one. I had not seen any greenery. In fact, it had been quite some time since any signs of life. No matter. I had eaten a couple of days before. I could certainly manage a few more before I would have to feast again, even if that meant if I had to resort to spring hares and mice. My body still cramped and my stomach had pangs. I felt my body was lighter from the lack of food. Now this was a tragedy. I was a King and now I had become a nomad. I had been reduced to living on the outskirts, stripped of power. This is what I had been reduced to. My pelt had lost its rich luster and my mane was dirty. It was unbecoming. I was deprived. My wounds had healed but I had seen better days. I was a pathetic mess. My stomach had gotten shriveled up to reveal bones. My sides ached and my legs tensed with each step. It was laborious. Several moons had passed me by. I was lucky enough to catch small mice, though it was nothing compared to buffalo or wildebeest I had craved.
I managed to catch a small monkey. Come to think of it, I don’t believe it was a monkey.
It was hairless and walked on two legs. Its flesh was certainly different. I waited until I made sure he was alone and had no means of escape. Its screams were dulcet tones to my ears. I savored the fact that I could instill fear in my weakened state. I did not finish the meal for I saw an adult run in my direction. I ate what I could and escaped. My taste for this strange new flesh had consumed me. I knew I had to have more. Zebra and antelope were scarce. The best part was that these strange beings seemed to live alongside this strange breed of fat antelope, quite unlike anything I have heard before.
I waited until nightfall. These strange beings had an unusual ritual. Night was prime hunting time for lions. They used this time to sleep. I was tempted. The buffalo antelope knew I was near, but they couldn’t escape. They were entrapped in this flimsy protective barrier. I crawled underneath one of the makeshift borders and aimed for a cow. She bellowed. I was originally aiming for a bipedal snack, but then I figured why go for a small pond when you can have a whole river?
I had my first taste of meat for the first time in a full moon but my heaven was short lived. Immediately, those strange two legged beings emerged like ants carrying fire on sticks. I gave them a warning not to come close. I was in no mood to fight as my energy was drained and I only wanted a meal. Their tongue was certainly strange one but I could tell that my presence had caused quite a stir. They tried aiming their weapons onto me. What these fools fail to realize is that I have no natural fear of fire. I just wished to eat and be left alone. I was about to make my escape when I heard a shot and felt a sharp pinch on my side. Father had warned us about these strange animals and the kinds of weapons they brandish. I remember my brother and I would laugh it off as their weapons were no match to our teeth and claws. I glanced at the source of the pain. I found no blood but I felt a wave overcome me and that was when I lost consciousness.
************************************************************************************
When I woke up, my eyes refocused. I was in an extraordinary environment. It was cold, dark and quiet. I rose up carefully, letting the pain and numbness in my legs subside. I surveyed my surroundings. It looked like a cave as the floor was unusually cold and the place was barren. There was no sign of life and it seemed shut off. What seemed most peculiar were the strange apparatuses surrounding me. I sniffed and tasted them. I had no idea what this was except that it tasted like iron. I was surrounded by thick iron sticks. I knew that I did not wish to be here. Now I knew how Zazu felt when I caged him up.
“Ah, Simba!” I directed my attention to the other side. I saw one of those bipedal hairless beings. How did he know about ‘Simba’? Was this his idea of a trick? I let out a warning. He spoke in a peculiar speech. I saw him speak to a few more and they turned to glance at me. It was the same looks I got from the lionesses back when my brother was King. Whatever it was they were talking amongst themselves, I knew it wasn’t good. I made sure to let them know that I was not impressed with this arrangement. My protests seemed to have unsettled them which gave me pleasure but as long as I was entrapped, I was at their mercy. That was when I saw one of them wield something. It was one of those tools they used. It sprouted fire and thunder. He aimed it at me and shot. I saw a blinding white light and the sound cracked loudly. I had stopped contesting. It was a warning. Then I saw them laugh. No matter what language, no matter what species, that was one sound I never forgot.
I can still hear Mufasa laughing during hunting practice when I had not yet honed my skills. I could still hear father commenting about my body and how sickly it was. I could hear the hyenas. I stopped. I laid down. I was surrounded. I went to sleep.
I woke up and saw that this was no dream. This was very much real as I bore witness to the whole troop surrounding me. Had I become belle of the ball? I could see that they were studying me intently. Some pointed with their paws which had long digits like Rafiki’s. They glared at me. I had done nothing! Their stone faces told me that I was the enemy and I was about to pay for my ‘crime’. That was when I saw her. She was female and she had tears. Then, she nodded. Bawling loudly, she seemed to confirm something which only created a loud ruckus. That was when I made the connection: she was holding a blood stained article. It was his mother. I had feasted on her cub. I had also taken notice of something else. They all seemed to make a gesture with their flimsy paws. They were pointing to their left eye. I immediately knew they were referring to my mark, my scarlet letter.
Then I noticed one of them step forward while the others gave him space. This was a similar tactic we lions used when there was dispute. I saw this being hold one of his weapons. Hippos use their large mouths, elephants use their trunks and tusks, we lions use strength and our natural talents. These beings relied on this shiny tool that shoots fire. They surrounded me like the hyenas, anticipating my execution. I saw two empty black holes aim at me. I refused to lay down and submit like I did to Simba.
CRACK
And that was the end of the first half of my life. What happened in between is of no real importance but know this: I had received a second chance. My transition was a painful one. It was as much a death as it was a rebirth. The details were slippery, like the waters in a stream. My movements were limited and my mind was a blur, but there were images, pale flickers that were stamped into my memory. I felt one of them run their thin paws along my mane in a manner completely alien to me and yet at the same time, not an unknown one. I do remember another one, a male, putting his paws into my jaws. I was in no position to contest such an invasion of privacy as my body was in a weakened state. The manner he spoke to me was one of reassurance, in a manner that reminded me of that ape but without the mystical gibberish. I felt one of them look under my tail, a detail I wish to forget.
But there was one constant: Her.
Even in my weakened state I saw her. She was not like the ‘others’ and when she looked at me it was not out of derision but because of something else: a sentiment that was completely foreign to me and yet I had not quite completely forgotten. She was hairless except for her crest upon which she had hair the color of the blackest oil. I remember I saw her as a potential meal, but in my condition, my spine would not allow it. I firmly believe now that she was not there to harm me.
Today, I have a paradise I can call my own. My new home comprises of lush falls, a fortress storied by large flynt, grass to rest on and my own cave. It’s no Pride Rock but the solace is second to none. The best part was the meals. I did not have to hunt as they were provided for me. I could never find the source of these rich courses, but I do know that every day when the sun reaches the highest peak, I get to feast. I am scrapping the meat off of bone when I notice something. It’s one of those bipedal hairless animals looking back at me. I ignored her as I was more interested in my meal, savoring the fact that I had a beautiful home, my every whim catered and I was taken care of.
I was loved.
“He was in such bad shape, the poor thing.”
“I’m glad they found him when they did. The lion skin trade down there is horrible,” a woman in shades nodded.
“He’s a rare specimen. He’s was covered in ticks and had bad cuts, like he had been in a fight. He looked he hadn’t eaten in two weeks,” a woman in green shorts and a bun nodded.
“From what I am told, the farmers blamed him for the death of their livestock. Then there was the rest and that’s when the animal sanctuary came in. I knew he would have better chance here.” The dark haired woman observed. Her voice was deep and sultry, almost like a purr.
“We couldn’t have done this without you, Miss Kyle.”
“Please, call me Selina. Anyone who is a friend of animals is on a first name basis with me,” she winked.
She would return later that night though not in the same garb. Her movements were more feline that human. She studied the latest specimen at the Gotham Metropolitan Zoo. Male, approximately seven to eight years old. His best days were behind him.
“You have seen better days, handsome,” she purred. She noted the pink gash on Scar’s eye. “You remind me of someone I know. I wonder what secrets you have.” She studied the lion and vice versa. He saw her more as a curiosity than a danger. Nonetheless, he liked his privacy and Scar let out a warning growl to keep her distance. “Hey, that’s enough of that. You’re home now.”
********************************************************************************************************************
Author's note: And there you have it. I knew this was going to be a 'cracky' fic but I could not resist inserting a 'cat' related character in there. Haha.
