THE LION KING: MY NAME
The Lion King: My Name (For the sake of tradition, here is a quick author's note. Read TLK The Freak to Chapter 10, and of course, Chapter 1 of My Name. This chapter is meant to be read alongside Chapter 11 of The Freak. Also, remember, this story will have a lot of bad language—Kifo is not a nice guy. Torture and violence below.) “Too slow,” panted Simba, “we're going to go over the Western Volcanoes. If we don't get to the Pride Lands soon, then who knows what might happen.” Uvuli bit her tongue. She'd hoped that f they went to the south fast enough, maybe, just maybe... they'd be able to find Freak. “But Daddy,” said Kiara, “the Western Volcanoes are a thousand times as dangerous as their siblings to the east. Are you sure—” “There's no choice, said Tanga; the old lion managed to keep up without difficulty, even though he was painfully aware of the daggers being shot into his back by Usiku, “young one... do you even know of the holiness of the Pride Lands? Particularly, of the holiness of Pride Rock?” (Yes, that is also foreshadowing, although to a future fanfiction.) Kiara paused, then shook her head, looking at her father suspiciously. “I'll explain later. The point is, if we don't get to the Pride Lands soon... well, we've got to get there as quickly as we can. Uvuli!” the Lion King called, and the black cub raced up to his side. “Tell me... do you smell anything? To the north east, from the Forbidden Island...I know that it should be out of range. But do you smell anything...?” She paused for a moment, closing her eyes in concentration, even slowing down a little. “...Kind of. ...Why?” she asked suspiciously, then gasped at the stark shade of white Simba, Sarabi, Nala, and Tanga turned. “What's happening?” Kifo asked, as smoke danced from his “body”, “why am I smoking?” A large vulture flapped over, soot falling everywhere. This being was the most freshly deceased of the followers, and, in fact, had been killed by the one... that Kifo would soon come to hate as his mortal enemy. “It's because of the evil of this land... it's too much for you to be here for long. It is akin to creating two ripples in a pond, directed at one another... there is, at first, disturbance. And then, destruction. So, Kifo... you have to leave. Now,” the vulture said coolly. “...Okay...” Kifo shrugged, and coldly turned to walk to the west, sensing, for some reason, that going to the east just wasn't safe yet... the aura of the Pride Landers hadn't quite fallen from that land, yet. “Is there anything I gotta do before one of you guys gives me a mission?” he asked without pausing. “Indeed,” rasped a pterodactyl, “kill...” The warrior walked on... a cruel, dark smile twisting across his face. “Can do.” Swimming was something that Kifo had never learned to do in his life, and he wasn't about to start now. So the warrior allowed himself to fall right to the bottom of the river that isolated the Forbidden Island from the rest of the world... before he realized that there was no bottom. He felt a bit of concern. He had no idea where this river might take him—but it would certainly throw a wrench into his Master's plans, if he wasn't there to fulfill the will of—his Master. (no, I'm not going to tell you his name yet.) So, reluctantly, he allowed his weapons to float freely, and he pumped his arms, and legs, using his crossbred tail to guide his path.. Shortly, he was moving fairly quickly, and only an hour later, he reached land. Here, to the north of the Bloody Shadows, the terrain was barren. Not hot, like the Desert, but sandy, lifeless... rocklike. There were some hills, and some random, dry trees... but nothing really alive. Kifo felt at home. Something caught his eye—it was... a statue? No, that made no sense at all—why would there be a statue here? The warrior walked right up to it, his breath coming out in snarls due to the unnatural nature of his face. It was a statue of a monkey. A mandrill. He smirked horribly, and decided to whet his appetite for death with destruction. He reached down with one furred, scaled appendage, and raised his rifle. Kifo racked a round into the chamber and found that he had enough strength to hold it in one paw, easily, and level it at the statue's skull. Grinning ferociously, maliciously, he pulled the trigger. Two thunderous roars were heard—the first, of the gunshot, and the second, of the bullet striking the statue, and exploding. The monkey stood strong, however, unharmed, and Kifo swore as he groaned, picking himself up from the ground, checking himself for injuries... that he heard peals of crazy laughter. “Fuckin' waste of a bullet,” Kifo snarled, glaring at the statue—he considered kicking it, but thought better of it, and instead, decided to seek out something living to kill. He knew, instinctively, that there was nothing living in the Bloody Shadows. At least, nothing living worth killing. So the warrior headed to the west... For days and days, and yes, nights, he walked. With each step, his goal became clearer, and the more he realized he would enjoy his job... every time his foot met the ground, a soft, crackling sound could be heard as the very Earth died. And then, all at once, Kifo stopped. It was grazing season, and the Western Grasslands were rife with many herds of gazelle, wildebeest and many, many more herbivores. Gathered here without the threat of predators, they gorged themselves, always careful to keep their females well guarded, just in case. Kifo realized that the will of his Master must have been to kill every being in the land through starvation—that's why there was only about one female for every ten males. And even where he stood, over a mile away, he could already see males fight each another, sometimes to the death, for the right to mate. After all, the right to continue one's life through offspring is a hard-won freedom. “Stupid motherfuckers, killing each another over a little bit of pussy,” Kifo said to himself conversationally as he unslung his rifle, adjusting the stock and scope for accurate, long-range shooting, “they're gonna learn that the only one around here that's gonna be doing the killing... is me,” he grinned savagely, laying down on his belly as he sighted on his target... The stronger, more experienced gazelle ducked under the frontal assault, then, positioned his sharp, deadly horns, and gave his head a deft toss. The next thing anyone knew, his foe's neck was penetrated, and pinned, even as it bled; the young hothead's life slowly flowing away. But the victor hardly registered this—his goal was won, and he gave his head another toss, to lead her away from the herd at large, to a quiet area under a tree... “You know what...” the warrior smirked terribly, “I'm gonna have me some fun,” he growled, standing up and allowing his rifle to hang freely at his side. The gazelles were totally secure—they felt that here, they were untouchable by predators. And the disappearance of their females had ended so long ago, at least, that's what it seemed like, that they felt completely untouchable. It was easy for Kifo to stalk over to them. He sneered terribly, as their mating began, and considered for a moment... how best to kill his enemies? Yes—his enemies. Anything living was his enemy. The male gazelle panted as he continued his work. The female looked up at the one that, hopefully, would give her offspring and continue the life of the pride— And then her eyes widened, as a long, metal-tipped arrow protruded from its skull. Impossibly, the male's motions continued post-martum as he twitched automatically, and she struggled to get free, her hooves kicking the dead gazelle to break free. And then, she froze as she saw the... demon stalk towards her. This gazelle was an old soul; her consciousness was her own, yes, but when the Great Spirits had given her body life, they'd sent down some of the essence of long-dead beings as well as her own personal soul... and so, reacting in the terror that had been ingrained into one part of her, she started to dash away— But the female gazelle didn't get far. Kifo drew the hatchet, and flipped it around. He then launched it through the air, his left arm's muscled rippling as the weapon arced towards its target. Second later, the gazelle dropped, minus one foot. Still, she was brave enough to fight through her tears of pain and try to drag herself to the herd. It was useless. She felt a powerful, crushing foot stamp down on her chest, squashing half the breath from her lungs. And then, she felt another foot drop onto her face... and she opened her eyes to see her bloodied, dismembered hoof clatter to the ground. Kifo's unnatural face grinned again, and he reached onto his right hip for a knife. “Master said I don't have to eat. But he never said I couldn't...” The gazelle, somehow, seemed to understand her assailant's words, and struggled harder. But there was no hope for her at all, and just to make doubly sure, the warrior sat down on top of her, straddling her. As his weight cracked two of her ribs, the gazelle's mentality changed. She resigned herself to her fate, and decided to hurt her aggressor as much as she could before she went down. So her hoof lashed out, striking him in the chest, hard. Kifo grunted, and held her down using his paws. He then looked down to see that a dark bruise was spreading across his chest. His nasty expression darkened even more as he looked up at the gazelle, and she felt cold, icy panic spread across her as the demon's eyes met hers. Kifo's scaled, clawed paw reached out towards her, causing to cringe in fear before it stroked across her ribs, leaving trails of smoke as it did. “That hurt, bitch,” he said conversationally, and the gazelle winced in pain before she looked at her own flesh, to see it melting away from where he touched her. Gazelles can't scream. But it was very, very easy for Kifo to see, and delight in the way her eyes rolled around in their sockets, looking for an escape to the pain. But his expression fell again, as he grew bored, and placed his appendage on her again, and concentrated. He felt rage and hate flow through him. He thought of all the times people had snubbed him, ignored him, written him off... how much he hated every being that lived... how badly he wanted to end them all... The demon then suddenly wrenched his paw away from her, and opened his eyes to look analytically at his handiwork. She was a wreck. The gazelle had had a healthy amount of muscle and fat before she'd met the demon, but now... her fur hung off of her loosely, flapping slightly in the breeze. Her eyes were small, bloodshot, and pained; and worst of all, her bones were so fragile that they broke when she continued to struggle; ash falling to the ground to collect into small, dark clouds. “Cool,” the warrior smirked, and picked up his knife again. The gazelle was forced to watch as Kifo took up a saggy handful of the fur near her belly, and slowly, lovingly slid the blade across it. Pain crisscrossed through her abdomen as blood spilled from the long, thin cut, and the soft tissue under her skin was exposed to the elements, but more importantly, to the demon. He leaned in, and lapped the blood up, licking his lips with his painfully scratchy tongue, thinking to himself. “Not bad, not bad,” he grinned darkly at the animal, before ripping her fur in two with his paws, “you've whetted my appetite...” There was then a sickly tearing, ripping sound as the demon reached into the gazelle's abdomen and tore away a large chunk of her flesh with his sharp, strong teeth. He pulled his head out, tossing it in his mouth as he sliced it into edible chunks, swallowing it as blood stained his lips, and the gazelle tried to struggle again, feebly, uselessly. “Tasty...” he grinned, and for the gazelle, the nest few minutes were pure Hell, as she was forced to see, hear, and feel the demon eat her while she still clung to life. Kifo was finished with his meal, but noticed that the gazelle's suffering could be prolonged... he allowed the useless flaps of her skin to sag down, protecting her from infection so that he could really bring the pain. The demon took his knife int his paw again, then shifted himself to scoot up to the gazelle's face. She recoiled at that, he was terrifying enough to look at that she closed her eyes tightly. “Aww, now, we can't have that... look me in the eyes, bitch,” he demanded with a growl, but she defiantly kept her eyes tightly shut. “Fine. I'll make you,” Kifo snarled, and then held his weapon's blade itself in his claws. He leaned in, and, with surgical precision, sliced through the poor animal's eyelides. She struggled again, feebly, but there was absolutely no hope at all. And then, the demon took those eyelids, and, ripping them free, tossed them into his mouth. “Eh... not bad,” he shrugged, and smiled, as if kindly at the gazelle, “see... I'm not so bad, am I?... ...Bitch...” Kifo's face suddenly twisted inexplicably, causing the animal to cringe in horror, “I am going to kill you slowly...” He spent the next ten minutes slowly skinning the gazelle. He used his claws to slice her, so that jolts of pain danced like fire over her, then ripped, tore, and pulled her skin away, so that the pain rolled over her in waves. Then, suddenly, the only skin left on the gazelle was on her face... “Gonna have to be gentle here...” the demon muttered to himself, and even as flies started to feed on her flesh direction, he carefully started to dissect her skin from around her horns, then ears, then eyes... She looked up at him, begging for death—the bleeding in her gut had long since stopped, and she wouldn't die until she literally rotted into nothingness. But there was no respite. Kifo mercilessly ripped the skin from her in one motion, and grinned at his handiwork. Her red meat, fat, and some bones were visible. Flies and other insects were starting to pile on, eating away at her flesh, even laying eggs already. To keep himself occupied while he thought of how to finally dispatch the gazelle, Kifo started to beat her; pounding her with his fists, breaking bones and bruising flesh. The gazelle's entire body bucked with each blow as her organs were only barely alive, much to her amazement and horror. Then, intuition struck the warrior. He looked around on the grassy plain until he found a long, tough blade of grass, and severed it at the base. Out of malice, he held the ground for a moment and concentrated hard, so that for at least ten feet in all directions, the grass started to wither and die... The demon then reached into his pouch and withdrew a grenade. He carefully tied one end of the grass around the pin, then the other to the root of the tree. Then, Kifo reached into the gazelle's ribcage as she whimpered, and positioned the explosive so that it stuck tight. Unfortunately, he felt something break, and as he took his paw out, it was covered in blood. He'd ruptured something, and the gazelle managed to smirk at him—she only had a few seconds left. But Kifo grinned back, even more horribly. A few seconds were enough... The warrior lifted the gazelle onto his back, tensing his muscles... The herd grazed on, content in the knowledge that the male that had earned the right to mate was strong, and would hopefully sire a healthy calf. They felt safe, in the quiet serenity of the Western Grasslands, and knew that here, they were invincible— Suddenly, the entire herd looked up, then scattered as one of their own fell down, as if from the sky. They didn't go far, however, and watched as she hit the ground, then bounced once. Then, the herd at large crowded around the female gazelle, horrified and disgusted at what had happened to one of the most important members of their herd... But she shook her head desperately once, before dying, warning them away... the bounce had shaken lose the handle of the grenade, and too late, the herd heard the soft fizz of the fuse burning— Some tried to run, but they were all close enough to be caught in or at least damaged by the thunderous crack that sent birds skyward for miles around, and made at least a dozen nearby herds look up, nervously. Gore splattered everywhere; cooked, holey chunks of gazelle meat rolled around for a few long seconds as the thick, black plume of smoke that the grenade had created slowly reached to the sky, mushrooming out to rain dust and debris to the ground. A few gazelle had managed to survive, though none were uninjured... some crawled away with three legs, two legs, or one, and some were still unconscious. But then, their attention was grabbed by a horrible, blood-curdling roar. They looked up, and saw a being that could only be described as demonic. Blood dripped from his face and paws, and he was holding long, thin instruments that even the gazelles knew, were meant to harm. Kifo methodically walked around, and sliced open each downed animal's throat. He ignored their unspoken pleas, occasionally stamping down on them if they annoyed him by drawing away. Fifteen shots later, he ejected his empty magazine... and it vanished into nothingness. “No evidence... nice...” the warrior grinned, then looked around in glee at the pain and death he'd solely been responsible for. “I love my job.” Now, the warrior walked to the south... he knew, instinctively, that his Master had no overwhelming need for him, and that if that great being did... Kifo would be told. He had no idea what he'd find in this area of the world... but nevertheless, he was surprised as he found a huge lake, easily the size of the Forbidden Island. It was many, many days travel from the Desert, and it was no wonder that it had never been found—it was perfectly still, and lifeless. After the massacre in the Grasslands, which the Great Spirits were only now becoming aware of, Kifo had felt his power grow—he was stronger, faster, deadlier. And with his power, the warrior had felt his hate for all life grow... There were only a few cranes, and some fish wallowing around in the lake. Out of sheer curiosity and boredom, the demon decided to see if there was anything larger, perhaps, in the deeper part of the lake. “It's fortunate that creatures shy away from me automatically... down there, only my handbow, grenades, sword, and knives will be of any use...” Kifo didn't think much more after that—he just plunged into the lake, jumping high into the air, then diving into it headfirst. The chilly water ht him like a sledgehammer, and soon, Kifo could see why it was so cold. The lake, from the surface, looked strangely dark—and that was because even the demon's eyes could see no bottom in it. “I wonder...” he thought, and swam deeper down, thanking his Master for not making him dependent on oxygen. At first, he'd vaguely recognized the schools of small fish that passed him. But within minutes, he found himself looking upon creatures that he'd only seen on television. “I thought that squid weren't supposed to be venomous,” he thought... It didn't make sense. It didn't make any sense at all. But what the warrior saw was, in the same manner that the Great Spirits had no knowledge or control of the goings on in the Forbidden Island, completely unknown to science. The assaulted animal was about five inches in diameter, yet over six feet long. Its skinny, spaghetti-like tentacles trailed lazily behind it; their color a dangerous shade of purple. The animal itself clearly wasn't an aggressive creature: when the smallish shark that jerked, moments before, to avoid Kifo started to swim towards it, the squid merely siphoned away, its many arms trailing lazily behind it. It was retreating, though not in a passive form. It was more like the squid was saying that it didn't want to fight... but if it had to, it would win. “Fuckin' idiot. If you get the chance, kill your enemies before they know you're a threat. I shoulda done that when I was alive,” Kifo thought savagely, with half a mind to kill the squid for being a fool, then to kill the shark just because. But the warrior's thought was abruptly cut off when the shark strayed a bit too close, and brushed his snout against the hunted animal's tentacle— It dropped as if it had been shot, and didn't come back. Kifo stopped where he was, and treaded water, watching the animal sink slowly to the bottom of the lake, wherever it was... Then, he looked up to see that the squid was, incredibly, looking back at him. Oh, it was afraid of the warrior, there was no doubt about that. But it was looking at him anyway, in the same manner that a man does at a lion, just before that huge, mighty paw comes to strike it down. Kifo could swear he could understand what the squid seemed to ask him, as its tentacles danced about in an attempt to communicate. “Why do you not fight like me? Why do you kill... when killing can be avoided?” The warrior reached over his back for his sword, and the mollusk couldn't dodge the blade as it cleaved through the water, then its body in a single, almost slow arc. “Because it's the only thing I can do.” “...And because I love it.” (Believe it or not, when I wrote Reflections, I didn't remember anything about the scene in TLK when Simba looks into the pond as directed by Rafiki.) He swam on... there were no ways to the surface that he could see. And yet, though the tunnel he found himself in was large enough to accommodate a aircraft carrier, if it was submersible, he didn't encounter another creature. Finally, Kifo came to an opening that was just big enough for him to squeeze through. The warrior broke surface, and his two paws found land before he dragged himself up— ...Into a jungle. Just in front of him, two lizards were lapping at the water, as if totally unaware of the demon's presence. But then they both froze up, and scurried away, out of sight, into a bush. Kifo didn't both pursuing them, and got to his feet. He stood there for a moment, shaking himself, and his weapons dry. Satisfied that they were in working order, he got his rifle into his paws again, feeling vaguely threatened in the thick, dark forest. He couldn't tell how he knew... but he knew, somehow, that there was something here. Something that shouldn't be here. And then, the loud click-clacking sounds coming from the mouth of a cave to his east made his eyes narrow. “I should have brought a flashlight,” he seethed, hardly able to see in the night, moonlight blotted out by the trees. But then, he felt some muscles in his eyes automatically flex, and a second later, he was seeing in the darkness as well as he did in the light. “Thank you, Master,” he said to himself, looking skyward gratefully, before shouldering his rifle and walking into the cave. To his right were two skeletons. The biggest one was a bit smaller than the skeleton of an average lion. And it was obvious that the other one... was just a cub. Probably just a newborn. Kifo raised a clawed foot, considering smashing them both into dust... but he didn't. Instead, the warrior's harsh, determined expression changed, and he concentrated. He detected the... not the souls, more of the essence of these bones. He could tell... that they were just like him. The same tendencies to violence... just the lack of power to rock the world with their wrath. The way he would. The demon looked at the skeletons for a second longer, until the click-clacking sounds became louder,and his head jerked up. The cave gave way into a huge, gigantic opening, like a grotto. In the middle of it, there was a lake... and even from where he stood, Kifo could tell that this one had no bottom, either. The smell, the complete stillness of it... But whatever was making that maddening skittering, clattering sound wasn't still. Kifo walked a little closer, and froze. He didn't see anything... but he smelled his enemy. “This motherfucker would taste real good with some lemon and tartar sauce.” The warrior's expression hardened, and he detached his rifle, allowing it to fall to the ground. It wouldn't help him now. He looked, hard, but quickly gave up. His master wasn't yet powerful enough to allow him to see in any spectrums besides visible ones. And though his sense of smell was powerful, it could only detect things—not point the demon to their location. He wasn't yet experienced with it enough for that to happen. But he knew that his enemy was close, and there could be no retreat. He heard the softest of a click—whatever it was, it was trying to get away. “I don't blame you.” Kifo then tried something... he allowed the darkness inside him to grow, and grow, and then unleashed it. But instead of the way he'd reduced the tree to ash or tortured the gazelle, he didn't give it a specific target—he allowed it to roll through the cavern slowly, maliciously. He smirked, sensing his prey's discomfort grow by the second. It was trying to hold out the assault, but that couldn't last for long. And then, he hurried a harried skittering, and in a second, his shotgun was out. He pumped it once, chambering a round, and centered its ghost sights on the center of where he heard the skittering coming from. Then, the weapon roared. Six heavy lead balls were belched out as a long tongue of flame spat from the weapon. Smoke clouded Kifo's vision as the projectiles met flesh. The demon saw a spurt of blood, and then his eyes widened as he was shaken—his enemy fell, and the resulting thud made Kifo fall to the ground. The skittering continued, but his prey, whatever it was, wasn't getting anywhere. Kifo saw blood spilling from midair... and understood. “It's invisible.” He fired the shotgun twice more, randomly, and his expression steeled. The shot struck flesh... on opposite sides of the cave. “I'm not the only one here that's strong,” Kifo noted, as he dived to the side, dodging a bloody claw that gouged a deep hole into the ground, “I'm just the strongest,” he sneered, climbing up the claw to stab at his enemy— Kifo felt his sword, testing its strength with his own hand. It held—it was a powerful blade. Even though he'd stabbed hie enemy over a hundred times; its steel clashing against the chitinous armor of his opponent, it held. It hadn't even cracked. But then, it wasn't a superweapon—it wasn't quite long enough to really reach to the heart of the problem—in other words, the heart of the gigantic crustacean that he'd fought. And so it still lived. Every now and then, the demon would hear an exhausted, desperate squirming sound. He'd grin—the stupid crab was trying to move muscles in limbs that were no longer attached to it. “I once saw a show,” he said conversationally, cleaning his sword with his paw; wiping its sharp blade until it was bloodless before sheathing it, “about these hornets, see. They get born inside of a spider... and eat it from the inside out.” As the warrior approached his defeated enemy, it cringed away. And although Kifo's fallen enemies always did, he always loved that palatable sense of terror they exuded at that moment. “I always liked crabcake,” he said coldly. As the demon stalked closer, his prey's increasing, yet hopeless struggles ceased to amuse him. So, again, he allowed rage to twist across his face and soul.. But this time, there was a physical reaction to his hate. Dark wisps of smoke seemed to travel from Kifo's outstretched fingertips. They lolled through the air, maliciously, stretching straight towards the crab, where they seemed to collect... And then, all at once, the entire upper section of what remained of its limb turned to ash, and fell away. That part of its body was just too thick for Kifo to cut through—with his sword. “But me... who I am, what I am, and who made me this way,” he thought, taking a moment to look skywards, to his Master, “that's just as deadly of a weapon. Even more so than anything made of steel.” “I think I get it,” Kifo though, starting to slice up chunks of the crab's flesh, shoveling it into his mouth with his paws, “the more pain I cause, the more death I bring to the world... the stronger I become. And the stronger Master becomes. The more prepared I become to do his bidding, and the more prepared he becomes to work for his goal... whatever it is. And then,” he took a particularly savage bite out of his still-warm enemy, “I will have my revenge.” (Five reviews to go on. If I were to write a Balto fanfic, how many of you guys would read it? I had a good idea today, and unlike the way I started The Freak as just a random shot in the dark (oops, shouldn't have admitted that), I have a vague storyline in mind for this one. So, what do you say? Remember to review, because this is al-Mujahid, hoping to see you soon.)
Chapter 2: I Love My Job
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