Heart of Darkness

As I edge closer to the voices, I see a fence, tall and mighty, made of the fierce wood of the Betel Nut tree. I mourn the desecration of my bark brother, but hide my grief as I crush the puny barrier with one swipe of my mighty forelimb. I continue, unhindered, unhurt, unstoppable.

Before me, in the muddy calamity of soil and muck, sit four wooden huts, and before them sit twenty humans, laughing pathetically. I narrow my eyes as I crouch and stalk them, circling them so I can run at them from in front. I wish to see my enemies' eyes as I hunt them.

Without warning, I begin. I lunge directly for the largest human, and rip into his chest. I savor the cry of pain, but I must concentrate. This is no time for play. I turn to the others, and let out a ferocious roar, obliterating ten of them instantly. The remaining humans look at me, trembling, fear pouring from their eyes. I feed on their fear, and moments later, I feed on their faces. With a supertiger power inspired by Mother Earth herself, I rip one of the huts out of the ground and thrust it deep into the heavens, a warning to the petty human-loving gods. I proceed to trample on the neighboring huts, and to mark my territory.

The camp lies smoldering from my fiery attacks of justice. My work is done. As I walk away, the jungle slowly reclaims this place of darkness. A little bird flies overhead. A golden-mantled tree kangaroo hops onto a piece of timber.

I rest, content in the knowledge that I have made my home a better place. With a soft purr, I fall fast asleep.