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Predatory Lives

Chapter 1

The fawn softly chewed on the grass underneath her, her life nothing but blissful and happy, the soft warmth of the sun rushing over her form as the golden rays comforted her almost as much as her mother did. She was only a few weeks old, but already she loved life, jumping around in the air, running around her mother; she just had so much energy and loved bursting by her mother as she ran on her spindly legs. Life was carefree, a breeze and all she ever had the need for was to fill her stomach and the source was so plentiful around her hooves.

Her mother had tried to tell her all these scary stories about how she needed to be careful, to keep an ever watchful eye scanning ahead and behind her, to test the wind constantly with her nose.

"How silly!"

She scoffed to herself and amused her mind with the knowledge that she had managed to sneak a bit from her mother. The mother deer was about thirty feet away, by no means far, but for the fawn, it was an accomplishment that she was very proud of. Her mother was so protective of her and it annoyed her to no end. Mother spoke of crazy things, such as huge black monsters that roared and had paws the size of her head and claws that could slice jagged scars through trees. Other horrible creatures were the howling demons that roamed and hunted in packs, their terrifying growls and unbelievable stamina and intelligence proving to be as ruthless as the winter.

What was winter, she had asked and mother had replied, telling her of a time every year where the wind did not comfort, but rather bit, a time when the sun provided no warmth and every day was a fight to find the smallest scraps of food to survive.

"Nonsense!"

This was all she knew and the idea of life changing was ridiculous. This fawn had grass and she had her mother and she had the sun. Why would life change to become worse and not as fun for her? She refused to accept these claims like most of the other fawns had, decrying their notions that it would be wise to learn how to run and move quickly around trees, laughing at their foolishness as they joined their parents in falling for the contrived existence of these tan-furred shades that crept along unseen until they were almost upon you, their screams echoing through the forested night. They were said to lack the stamina that the demon packs had, but that they made up for it in their ability to stalk and sprint at horrifying speeds.

Bending her head back to the grass, her ears caught a faint rustle in the woods a bit beyond her immediate view. Something in her head told her to be afraid, but she knew there wasn't anything out there. They were all just crazy stories her parents and the other fawn's parents made up to get them to obey their mothers from fear. Just to prove herself right, though, she lifted up her head and took a quick peak out at where she thought she heard the sound.

"Hah! Nothing is there."

"Foolish deer, we shall see if you still spew your stupidity inside my belly tonight."

Tiruna crept closer to the munching doe, her posture low, very low to the ground. She was within easy striking distance, a mere twenty yards from the naïve, and soon to be dead fawn, but the cougar crept ever closer. Every yard less of distance meant a better chance of success, and for her, success was the difference between having a satisfied stomach for a few days and going home with an empty belly for the fourth day in a row.

Granted, this was the first time she had tried since downing a few rabbits, but Tiruna was not one to accept failure for anything other than what it was: an embarrassment to her species. Finally, the female cougar stopped inching forward, the sounds of the fawn talking to herself and chewing the grass in her teeth loud in her ears. Coiling her spine, she launched herself forward at the doe, her powerful hind legs covering over half of the distance between predator and prey in one bound.

The fawn squealed, turning in terror to listen to her mother's desperate plea to run, but she didn't make it more than a few steps before Tiruna barreled her over, tripping her onto her back before thrusting her head forward to lock her jaws around the young deer's throat. Using the strong and well-seasoned muscles in her legs, she held the comparably weak doe down, slowly draining her of life as she faintly struggled to free her from her captor and hunter.

A few minutes later, a victorious cougar stood up from underneath the grass, a freshly killed doe in her maw, her tail flicking about as she drug it into a more secluded place. The sounds of a ferocious killer triumphantly eating caught just the last few gusts of wind and carried it back into the woods. The world now had one less fawn and for a temporary time, one less hungry cat. Within an hour, there wasn't anything left except for the bones and scraps. Tiruna stood up, happy and full, turning around to travel back to her cave and lounge for an hour or two on her rock, enjoying the sun's rays before they disappeared behind the outcropping. There would be no need to hunt for a couple days.

Another morning, and another awakening from a nightmare that seemed to haunt him every single time he closed his eyes. He would be curled up next to something that felt warm, something he associated as safety. His small form felt protected by it, a soft, constant rumble vibrating against him as he pressed into it. It spoke words to him, cooing to him in a sweet voice that told him he would always be safe so long as he stayed by its presence. Then, it would suddenly be gone and sheer terror would grip him, his dark world surrounded by many voices, loud and unfamiliar voices and all went dark.

Zanzibar opened his bleary eyes, feeling even more tired than he had when he first went to sleep. The cement under his pads was warm, but hard and rough. Hoping that some miracle might happen to bring him some food for his desperately hungry stomach, the cheetah chirped loudly for as long as his now very short breath allowed him. Within a couple minutes, he fell to his haunches, so tired, but so desperate. No one had come by his cage for five days, not after the terrifying bang and flash of light that sent his only provider of food tumbling down the hill, the object that was in his hand falling down with him. The smell of blood and scent of death told the feline all he needed to know about the final conclusion, but it did nothing for his stomach and failing health. His small cage reeked of refuse, a corner where he had relieved himself now constantly swarming with flies.

Unfortunately, those flies wouldn't leave him alone, but Zanzibar was beyond fighting them off, instead miserably allowing them free run of his fur and skin, the energy to scratch them off or even scratch at the boils they left behind no longer existent. The cheetah knew he wouldn't last another day if he didn't eat. He had to get out, but the world outside scared him. However, his stomach was winning the battle, but it was nearly out of energy to respond. Knowing he was running out of time, Zanzibar growled and paced around looking for an exit. His paws were sore and bleeding, but he ignored them; if he didn't escape today, they wouldn't matter for he knew he wouldn't wake up again after he closed his eyes.

Scanning around with his blurry vision, his eyesight fading due to the lack of nutrition, Zanzibar remembered the swinging door his former owner had always used to get in. Pushing against it, the cheetah tried to imitate the results and felt a little bit of give, but it pushed back at him harder than he could manage to strain. The last vestiges of his heart began to pound adrenaline through him, this last gasp effort deciding his ultimate fate. This surge would either free him or send him tumbling down in the final defeat as soon as it wore off.

Yowling in the desperation only one could know if faced with a life or death situation, the spotted cat stepped back and launched himself at the gate. The rusty lock held, but Zanzibar felt the fence bend under him and the small success fueled him to go on. Lunge after lunge, he propelled himself forward and the gate bent further. Closing his eyes in determination, he leapt at the gate and then yelped as he tumbled forward, the gate finally snapping open.

Stumbling forward, Zanzibar sniffed the air around him, no less the same as before, but as he tentatively walked forward, the scent of his waste weakened and the smell of fresh air whipped over him. For some reason, the cheetah felt more at home as he stood there, letting the wind rush over him and rustle his pelt. Part of him desired to find food, but another side of him encouraged him to lie down and rest from the exertion, to fall asleep one last time, this time as a free animal. The cheetah's eyelids flickered, and he mewled in despair as he felt his limbs shaking, the strength to escape now leaving him just as he had won.

"No, no. Not yet."

Urging his miserable body forward, Zanzibar struggled to find something to eat, entering more of a zombie like walk where he forgot how many steps he had taken or where he was going. He heard noises, the chirps of birds and the faint rush of water, but it all felt like a dream. Not even sure if he was actually walking or just dreaming it as his existence flickered out, the cheetah panted, each labored and heavy step growing harder and harder to take. Suddenly, one of his paws landed on a slippery rock and Zanzibar lost his balance, falling and then rolling down a long hill, his weak and battered body flopping like a ragdoll until he finally slid to a stop on the grass below him, his body no longer capable of moving.

In defeat, the male cheetah sobbed silently to himself in both pain and the realization that he would never get up again, that this would be where he would die. Fortunately, at least he could talk solace in the fact that he would die on the clean grass and that his last breath would be one of fresh, beautiful air, rather than snorting in his own shit as he pissed his crotch on the cement. His breaths lost their power, becoming more and more shallow, soon straining to even catch the smallest of puffs. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they closed over his amber pupils, his breaths as numbered as the claws on his paws.

His ears would have flicked had he energy or self-awareness in which to move them in response, but instead he lay perfectly still as the crunching sounds of grass and a surprised yelp echoed inside his eardrums. The world then fell to darkness and all was still. Zanzibar felt the warmth of his mother cradle him one last time, her soothing words relaxing his feline frame as he died.