D:L&L - Part 5 | Lion: In Like A Lion

It is only fair that we begin with one simple rule for your protection:

Do not fuck with me.

Ever.

I have committed some truly heinous acts in my life, usually against humans. It's not that I'm terribly partial to other creatures- it's just a human thing. Humans insist on taking more than they need, often at any expense, and it is this drive that invites violence among them and to them.

Look, for the most part, when I've destroyed someone, it's because they had it coming to them. At some point, they made a decision based on selfish or unjust motives, and that decision came back to haunt them. In the form of me. And if you haven't noticed, I'm pretty bad ass.

My reputation certainly precedes me, and I would say that it is generally true. I have eaten people whole, gnashing into their bones as their still-warm blood runs down my throat, listening to their cries of death. Later, I might listen to some music and take a nap. It's not a big deal to me. It's just business.

But one thing you need to know is this- I never show mercy.

Ever.

I am who I am. I am what I am- a lion.

I am the King, baby, and don't you fucking forget it.

You're dying to know. I can smell it.

Oh, fine. Let's just get it out there.

When history views what I am about to do, I would prefer that all facts are taken into account so that I may be judged fairly. After all, I'm a Leo- pride comes with the territory. Get it?

When I was a cub, my pride was the most fearsome in the land. Growing up in the foothills of Quadling Country, our pack of ferocious flesh-eating beasts was untouchable. My father was the alpha and he set a ferocious example in savagery. None of the other males dared to challenge him after he dispatched his predecessor (with unusual cruelty, even for a lion), taking my mother as his prize. Until his death, his reign over the pride went unchallenged- unheard of for a species that is genetically driven to confrontation and contest.

My brother and I were his highest priority. Until the day my brother was killed. We had been hunting with the other males and were set upon by our rival pride, who had been following us for days. My brother and I tried to flee the attack, but he was snatched by a tough, grizzled old lion, his neck snapped as I dove for safety down a large ravine. He was the only casualty that day and his body was never found for proper burial.

My father's rage exploded, and he vowed to train me to be the most lethal lion in the land to avenge my brother's death. He trained me from sunrise until sunset. He would often attack me without provocation, that I might develop deadly reflexes. But he was careful not to harm me because beneath his anger, he feared losing his one remaining son.

My mother was not allowed contact with me, other than under father's supervision. And when we hunted, my father protected me.

Yet under his protection, my spirit withered. It is only in the unknown and unpredictable situations where we define our character. We cannot explore our infinite potential in safety, And so, while I physically grew to massive proportion (as you can plainly see), being guarded and secluded by my father, the only aspects of me that developed were my fear and insecurity. Fear of the unknown.

While the other lions proved themselves again and again, chasing food, waging battle upon all manner of species (including our own), I remained unchallenged, due in large part to my father. No one would take me on for fear of terrible reprisal. I learned to forage for my own food but I never shouldered the burden of standing up for myself- of having to look over my shoulder for a foe looking to move up the hierarchy.

As my stature grew, so did my fear- my fear of losing the security I so enjoyed. My fear of not being as good as the other lions. My fear of my father's watchful eye, and my fear of losing my father. And my greatest fear of all- the fear of being expelled from my pride, having to roam the land alone for the remainder of my days.

At a very young age, I realized that I had no guts.

And so I adopted that timeless compensation for a lack of courage- bravado. Swagger, if you will. I talked shit, I talked it loudly, and I got what I wanted. I became a bully, masking my fears with unchecked cruelty. For a very long time, it worked.

As you yourself know, everyone fears a lion. In fact, the only creature that does not fear a lion is another lion.

It was only a matter of time before my father sent me to prove myself as a worthy heir to his place in the pride. Among our species, worthiness is proven through a single, one-time test. You fight to the death against a lion from another pride. My father arranged for my test with his counterpart in our rival pride- an arrangement conducted through complex messaging and go-betweens, for the other pride was well aware that we had yet to exact revenge for my brother.

I was chosen to claim that revenge. I would not only battle for my place in the pride, but for the honor of my twin brother. My instructions were to not simply kill my foe, but to do so slowly and viciously. I was to make history that day, putting our pride on the map forever.

And I did.

Now, it is a simple fact that I have a keen intellect. I'm not blowing my own horn here, it's just that in matters of thought and analysis, I have few peers. Perhaps my unusual intelligence was developed to compensate for my relative inexperience in fighting. This skill has advanced me far in life, but back then I knew that my wits would be of little value in a fight to the death on a dusty plain.

Flying monkeys carried news of the impending battle to the four-legged, the two-legged, and all creatures of Quadling Country. It was to be the battle to end all battles- a savage contest where the winner would secure immortal glory and the loser would be eaten, first by the winner, then by the winning pride, and finally by the birds and carrion who would feed on whatever flesh and blood remained on the loser's bones.

My father decreed that the battle would occur at sunrise, before the terrible heat descended on the foothills. My foe was reported to be slightly shorter than I, but muscular, disciplined, and utterly fearless. Stories of his conquests had long been spread through our pride and it was whispered that it was he, and not I, who was the heavy favorite. No one dared suggest this to my father, who was convinced that I would be the contestant still standing at the end of the battle.

They all knew- I had never fought another lion.

My fear has never been greater than it was that day. I could not petition my father for guidance because that would show weakness. Moreover, if my father knew that I had never fought one of the lions in our pride, he might select another of our lions- a tougher, hungrier fighter, who would surely win the contest and then most likely come after me. I could not ask another lion for advice on fighting because I was a bully and I had no friends.

I sent two birds to scout my opponent. They advised that he was massive- thick across the chest with paws that were as large as a tree trunk. The birds hesitated, but finally confessed that there was not a single creature in the entire land who gave me a chance of prevailing. Even the lions in my own pride.

Despite his girth, I was, by all accounts, taller and more agile. And make no bones about it- my claws are as sharp as those of any lion in the land. Yet only my father seemed capable of believing that I could win this contest.

"When you feel is neck snap, begin eating his throat right away. You will inherit his energy and become twice as strong. I will then join you in your glorious feast before we allow the rest of the pride to partake.

Savor your victory, for it will be hard won. It will be the hardest thing you will ever be asked to do, and when it is done, you will be, next to me, the most feared creature in all the land.

Do you have any questions for me, son?"

I had thousands.

I asked none.

"No, father."

And so the morning of the fight arrived.

The accumulation of wealth is a trait unique to humans. Only that two-legged virus known as humanity is driven to accumulate wealth.

In a laughable, hopeless attempt to create security, humans have created a system whereby they place a value on their time (as if you can measure infinity). Depending on how they use their time, their society credits them with units of measurement called "money." And that's all money is- just a measurement of how one spends their time.

Humans, driven by an insatiable ego that makes each one think that he or she is different than all the others, then compare amongst themselves who spends their time most wisely by measuring who has the most money. Whoever has the most money is judged to have the most freedom. And whoever is the most free is the most powerful.

I am the wealthiest creature in Oz. And my empire sprung from the sound of munchkins singing.

It all went down just after Dorothy left. I choose not to talk about those days, only to acknowledge that after certain events passed, I was again on my own.

The authorities had been looking for me and I was hiding in some bushes just east of Emerald City. A light rain fell when I first heard them sing a dark, mournful song with tiny voices that seemed to pull heaven down to the very earth on which I walked. It was beautiful. They sang to a munchkin who had perished in some sort of battle, or maybe an accident.

The little body was perched on a stack of wood as they gathered around his corpse. As several of them touched their torches to the small pyre, they started to sing their sweet, glorious song. It was unbelievably sad and beautiful, all at once. I could not help but weep. I had never heard anything so strange, so intoxicating, in my entire life. I wanted to hear it again and again, but the song, like the flames, soon came to an end.

Thirsting for this beauty that I had not ever experienced, I found myself seeking these services out, hiding in bushes, alleys, trees... wherever I could conceal myself to witness this glorious experience. This singing. It was music. I became obsessed with the different songs, the voices, the words that flowed from their tiny hearts. They never saw me.

And then one evening while walking through Emerald City late in the evening, I noticed some humans standing around some sort of machine. The sound of singing- detestable, atonal human singing, came from this machine. I had never seen anything like it. The humans standing around it were smiling and weaving slightly, in rhythm to these grotesque sounds. I realized in that moment that the sound of singing had somehow been captured and that it could now be played again and again.

I was speechless. I sought out my remaining friends in the human communities and asked about this machine. They told me that a technology had been developed where sounds could be captured (recorded) and reproduced (replayed) at will.

My first thought was to get a machine to capture the sound of munchkins singing. I needed it. Somehow I new it could restore sanity in times of fear and discomfort.

Myself a beneficiary of technology, it had only been a year or two since I had undergone the rudimentary special-fusion procedure that changed my musculoskeletal makeup to more closely resemble that of humanoids. My claws were bent inwards, to allow me limited benefits of an opposable digit. A thumb, if you will. My hips were adjusted backwards and my spine straightened to allow me to walk on two legs just as easily as on four. I preferred to stand on two feet among humans and munchkins because on two legs, I stood over ten feet tall- a height never achieved by any humanoid. But I was still a lion and I engendered the respect and terrible fear that accompanies my species.

I'll admit that it was through pure intimidation and manipulation that I funded my enterprise. Collecting debts for human landowners and wealthy munchkins, I took a sizable percentage of monies recovered, using the human wealth system for my own aims. The work was easy for me, although I occasionally had to back up my threats with lethal force. As I said before, these people created their own problems and I was simply the inevitable consequence of their short-sightedness. As my reputation for violence spread, resistance waned and collecting debts became easier and easier. It got boring.

After several years working in the shadows of the barely-legal and criminal worlds, I had accumulated both considerable wealth and a network of influential partners and underworld associates. The underbelly of Oz is dark with lust, violence, and greed, just like any other large city and I was able to use these proclivities to advance my prominence in society.

When the timing was right, I turned to my legitimate business contacts and amassed the team that would build my empire. With seemingly limitless funding, paid by blood and human weakness, I launched my corporation in a year- Pride Multimedia. Underneath this company I built my first record label, as well as a production studio.

I was the first to record the songs of the munchkins and quickly trebled my profits as the masses hungrily clamored for copies of these recordings. The recordings proved more successful than anyone could have predicted. Money and power amassed at my feet as people from all walks of life petitioned me for my influence. Shortly after releasing our first munchkin recording, I moved our offices to the top floors of the tallest building in Oz, which I bought in its entirety just two years later.

I moved myself into a luxury penthouse across town, eventually taking several floors for my staff and my own private recording studios.

As my wealth grew, so did my power and soon I held sway over the most influential politicians in the entire land.

I am now the most powerful creature in all of Oz.

Hear me roar.

Oh, the battle from my youth?

Well, you know how it ended, don't you? Yes, you do.

What happened that morning has haunted me ever since. Not an hour of my long, storied life has not passed without me reflecting back on that moment.

Can you imagine that? Living a life haunted by a single memory? To be visited with soul slapping regret at every turn of your day?

There are times when a situation presents itself in such a way that we know, at that very moment, that our response to the situation will define both our character and our fate. In those moments, heroes and leaders seize glory or die trying.

There are then those times when we find ourselves in a situation we do not fully comprehend, though we might think we do. Guided by arrogance, our actions are short-sighted and foolhardy. Regret is born in the realization that our moment of glory came and went without us ever realizing it.

It was the latter situation that has dominated my psyche for all these years.

For on the morning of my greatest battle, I was nowhere to be found.

Under cover of darkness prior to the fight, I ran away, never to see my pride again.

I tell you this so you will understand why it is that I am embarking on this final course of action. You will understand why the end, will justify the means.