(3rd POV)
(Southern Serengeti)
It was night.
The Serengeti slept under a shroud of clouds.
The moon was buried behind the clouds, casting no light upon the land. The only sound was the wind weaving through the grass, and the rhythmic croak of distant frogs and crickets.
The air was wet and heavy, making every scent linger too long, and every movement sounded too close.
The Western Pride had made camp beneath a cluster of trees near a dried riverbed. They had moved away from their previous home due to the so-called return of Leo. There were 7 lions in total, 5 females and two males, the kings of the west.
Their names didn't matter anymore.
The two males lay side by side, the larger of them half-awake, his ears flicking back and forth. The night was still young, but the lack of moonlight made it feel like midnight. He did not know the exact reason, but he was very cautious that night.
He lifted his head, nostrils twitching.
He smelled nothing, but he felt something. It was one of those moments where instincts fought with senses. Was it just his imagination? Or was there something out there which he couldn't quite smell?
He turned toward the sleeping pride and growled low, not loud enough to wake them but enough to alert the other male.
"What is it?" the second king mumbled, barely raising his head.
The first king didn't answer. He got up, stepping through the tall grass with his body low. The blades brushed against his belly, cool and wet. His eyes scanned the open field beyond the trees.
Still nothing.
Only the whisper of the grass.
He was about to turn back when a faint sound reached his ears. It was not from ahead, but from behind.
A step.
He turned sharply but saw nothing. The pride still slept under the acacia shade, the other male now sitting upright and looking around.
The first king walked back, irritation mixing with unease. "It's nothing," he muttered. "Go back to sleep."
But even as he said it, his tail wouldn't stop flicking.
He went back to his same position and tried to lie back down to sleep. But just as he was about to relax, the wind changed direction.
Both kings froze.
The new wind carried a smell they couldn't mistake.
The stench was old blood and dominance, heavier and thicker than anything they'd ever known. The smell unlocked something in their brain, a memory they thought they buried underneath a pile of ego and arrogance.
It was like a trigger to a trauma they didn't want to remember.
Before they could react, a shape passed between the trees. There was no roar, no growl, no challenge, no nothing. There was only the faint crunch of grass under tremendous weight.
It was then that they realized they were not challenged, but hunted. The thing hunting them did not even acknowledge them enough to challenge them as equal lions.
The two kings stood shoulder to shoulder and looked where they saw the shape. Their eyes glowed slightly in the dark, inbuilt night vision almost making things as clear as day. But still, they found nothing.
The night swallowed everything again.
It was quite terrifying how they couldn't find such a giant beast.
Then a sound came from the right. It was alarming how the sound shifted there so quickly. It was just a rustle but both heads turned immediately. The grass moved slightly, like something crawling low.
They both stepped forward, teeth bared.
"Come out!! We see you!!"
One of the kings said with an angry snarl.
But soon, the only sound came from them. The night was still again. At this point, the kings were irritated and decided to take the initiative by marching forward.
Their approach caused another sound. This time they heard it clearer. It sounded like the flap of wings and something flying away.
"Huh?"
That was when a blur of motion shot from the left.
A massive shape crashed into the smaller king, slamming him into the dirt with bone-cracking force. The other barely saw what hit him. One moment, there was silence; the next, his companion was gone beneath a wave of muscle and claws.
He took a shocked step back while trying to see what had just happened. His smaller companion had completely disappeared, blanketed by a lion with a bigger back, bigger head, bigger paws, bigger everything.
His brother did not look small in comparison; he was not visible at all, swallowed by a mass of muscle.
Then lightning crossed the clouds. It was a brief moment where everything was lit up bright, and he was finally able to see just what had happened.
He caught only a glimpse as lightning flickered far away in the clouds, a silhouette above the grounded lion, his mane fully dark and heavy, his teeth buried deep in his brother's throat. He could almost feel the sheer bite force as the smaller lion's neck literally collapsed and was almost broken in chunks.
The mane offers no protection; the loose skin may resist cuts but it could not hold under sheer pressure.
The downed lion twitched once, legs kicking weakly. Then nothing.
He was killed just like that, just like how lions would kill small helpless prey.
The second lion had not moved at all. Everything happened too fast. His mind could not even comprehend that his brother was already dead.
The killer stood up and raised his head.
Lightning flashed again, faint but clear enough.
That was when the lion caught himself looking up. His head was raised like he was looking at the sky because the killer had completely towered over him.
"King Leo," the lion named the killer with a shaky breath.
He took a step back, almost stumbling as he did so. He wanted to roar, but his throat locked up. The instinct buried in every wild creature screamed run.
But anger and pride silenced the scream.
"You have no right—" he began, but his words would remain forever unsaid.
Leo's paw came down on his head, the paw literally as big as his skull. The weight behind it sent his head into the mud, his front legs folding under the strength.
The lion was knocked unconscious immediately. And when his eyes opened and he regained consciousness, he felt a tight clamp on his spine. He felt his body getting wet and liquid flowing down. It had not rained yet, so it was easy to tell that it was his blood.
And then he was lifted off the ground completely. He never felt so helpless since his mother carried him.
A violent thrash caused a crack in his spine, snapping one of the most important bones in his body. Then he was smashed into the ground. The earth was wet, damp, and muddy so he did not die instantly.
So he had to experience the same pain a couple of times until his body tore in half. Then he was dead, intestines spilling out, but not from the belly but the back.
Leo stepped off the corpse, his face half bloated with fur and flesh stuck in his teeth and jaw. He looked toward the lionesses. His gaze alone was enough to freeze them. He didn't growl, didn't roar. He simply stood over their fallen kings, his chest rising and falling steadily.
They lowered their heads one by one.
Leo turned away and disappeared into the tall grass once more, his dark mane swallowed by the night.
His work was not yet done.
..
..
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(Eastern Serengeti : Same Night)
The night was darker now. The clouds had thickened, burying the moon deeper under their weight. Not even the stars were able to shine.
The Eastern Pride lay stretched out beneath a weathered kopje. It was a pride with 6 members, 5 females and 1 king. The air was heavy and wet, the smell of recent rain still clinging to the grass. The lionesses slept in a loose circle, their flanks rising and falling with slow, steady rhythm.
Only the king was awake.
He stood on a small mound of rocks and earth, staring out at the dark plains below. His mane swayed in the wind. He was one of the oldest lions among those that reigned, his face had scars of experience.
He had ruled this land for two months now, long enough to call it his. He had fought many battles for this, harder battles than most. It was why he was the only ruler of this land, while the other regions had a coalition of kings.
Yet none of that eased the restlessness inside him. The courage he had to fight all those battles was nowhere to be found in his heart now, as if he had used it all up.
He turned his nose to the wind, waiting for something.
And he simply closed his eyes when it arrived.
The scent came faintly at first, distant, distorted by the damp air. But it was unmistakable.
Lions could tell stories through smell, and this smell talked of death. It was the smell of a lion, but on his body, he carried the smell of other lions and blood.
His stomach twisted as his paws went still. The wind carried that scent again, stronger this time, until he could almost taste it on his tongue.
He knew it.
He knew it better than any smell in the world.
He had fought it before.
The night was gone from his mind. He was back to that old battlefield, a dry savanna under blistering sun. Four lions had stood beside him then, his brothers in all but blood. They had fought as one coalition, five strong, confident and cruel.
And in front of them was a tailless lion bigger than any lion should be. With a mane so thick and dark, you could almost lower your head on sight.
The memory rose sharply and vividly. The roar that didn't sound like a roar, the charge that cracked the ground, the way the enemy fought them like it was nothing. It hadn't been a fight really, that was something they all learned at one point.
He still remembered the sound of his brothers' bones breaking. The smell of their blood spraying onto the dry grass. The silence after the last one fell.
They thought they had a chance since it was the dry season. They were gravely mistaken.
He had run.
He hadn't thought. He hadn't looked back. He had run for two nights and two days until his lungs bled and his paws tore.
And now that same smell stood in his nose again.
The king's chest heaved. The air suddenly felt too thick to breathe. He looked down at his pride sleeping peacefully, unaware of what was coming.
He turned his head back to the plains. The darkness stretched endlessly, but he knew what was out there.
So the king jumped down from the rock and padded toward the lionesses. When he reached them, he nudged one lioness softly. She was his favourite, the queen so to speak.
"Up," he growled.
She blinked sleep from her eyes. "What is it?"
"Get up. Wake the others."
Confusion flickered across her face, but she obeyed. Within moments, the others stirred, blinking and stretching.
"What's wrong?" one asked.
The king didn't answer immediately. He looked over them, his pride, his family, the only proof that his years of fighting had meant something. He had protected them, fought battles for them.
His eyes flickered back to that same lioness, her belly was beginning to swell.
He exhaled deeply, feeling shame come up as he said, "You must leave."
The lionesses blinked, confused. "Leave? Why?"
"Go to the north," he said. "Past the marshes. Keep walking until morning. Don't stop."
"King?" one of them asked, "What are you saying?"
"You have no king!" he said firmly, "I am no king."
"Go!! Leave!!" he screamed when they were still stuck.
The lionesses obeyed him one by one. They did not know what was going on but they decided to do as he said.
"Go find someone else to protect you. Someone braver, or stupider," were his final words.
He watched them disappear into the treelines and the tall grass. When they were finally gone, he turned around just in time to see the lion standing tall beyond the grass.
He froze.
And then promptly bowed.
He was no king. At least not in front of something like that.
"Are you not the king of the Eastern Region?" Leo asked.
"There are no kings in the Eastern Region," he answered.
"Then what are you?" Leo asked.
"Just a lion in a place where he shouldn't be," he said.
..
"Then run, go back to where you belong," Leo said.
The lion did not need to be told twice as he ran in the opposite direction where his pride went.
..
..
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Author : Watched chainsawman, it was awesome but also broke me