You have no idea what I'm capable of.

I see her. Always. She's watching me. From wherever she is, she's watching me. And you have no idea.

I can't tell you. I don't want to. Don't want you to know what I am. What I can do.

Because I'll do it.

Do you know why I don't eat with the pride? Do you know where I go, every day? Every day?

I destroy.

It's not hunting, what I do. It's murder. I don't kill for food. I don't kill for pleasure. I kill because I need to. Because it lets it out. Because it needs me to kill. And the whole time it's dying, the whole time that gazelle's entrails are watering the grass and staining the sky, I'm watching. Waiting for it to die. Sobbing. Because I know what I've done, and I know that I'm doing it because I don't want it to be you I'm watching.

She put it there. She put this inside of me, this…need. This thrist for violence. Revenge. I'm a machine, you see. I was born to kill you. I was made and manufactured to order, to burn and pillage and fuck things up. And I broke. I didn't obey my master.

And now she's angry.

I hear her too. That's why I don't sleep with the pride. Because if I sleep, she's right there next to me, breathing. Dying. Whispering in my ear.

You failed me, Kovu. You betrayed me.

You hear me, Kovu? You betrayed us. You're a traitor! A fucking traitor!

Stop. Stop it.

I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt any of you. I love you. All of you. You tried to help me, tried to…make me better. And you can't. No one can help me.

I can't do this.

I'm gonna kill you, because it's my job. Because I'm fucking supposed to. She made me, she destroyed me!

I can't…

Every so often, this is what it does to me. Makes me this: a raving, slobbering, despicable lunatic. Because it knows too. It knows what I'm capable of, what I was made for. And I can't stop it. I want to, gods above I want to. I want to grab it and slice it and watch its blood drip from my claws, and I can't. Because it'd be my blood. My heart I'd be ripping out.

Kiara, she…she doesn't deserve me. She wanted a mate, someone that would…take care of her. And I tried, I swear on the gods I did. And it's not working. It's not working!

I try and I try and I can't make it go away. Bloodlust, it's…that's all it is. All I am. All I was made for.

I'm leaving. I…you don't want me here. Tell Kiara…oh gods, tell her I'm sorry. Tell her that she's…that this is better. For all of us. Because when I'm far away, when I'm just a memory, I can't hurt her.

Not like my mother. She made me, but I will not be like her. I will not let her…control me. I choose my own fate, I am Kovu, and I…I am not her. No matter what she tells me, no matter what happens, I am me. I…I don't want to be her. Don't want to be here, with her.

I can see the sunrise from where I'm sitting. It's so…it's so delicate. I'm thinking of her now. Just like her. Just like the sun. I'm looking at the sun, and I see her.

Shit. Oh shit, no. Don't let me…don't…

I can't stay here. It's only a matter of time…only…

Kiara, I love you, and that's why I can't be here, because I don't want to hurt you, you have to understand that! Oh, gods above, I don't want to hurt you.

Please…please don't…

Don't let me stay, don't…let me stay…

Let me stay…

Oh, gods, please let me stay. I'm gonna…I can get better. I will get better. I am better. I will never hurt anyone ever again, just…

She's dead. I know she's dead. She's dead, and I'm insane, and as long as I know that then nothing can happen, right? I'm fine. I'm fine.

I'm fine.

• • •

"Kovu?"

The deserted watering hole repeated the question, the deep voice of the stocky red-maned lion echoing from every corner of the world. He turned and faced the figure beside him. Simba looked concerned.

"You been out here all night?" the king asked. "It's freezing out."

His brown fur ruffled in the breeze, and he didn't reply. Only stared.

Simba's brow creased. "You okay, Kovu?"

A second of silence, a second for the sun to crest over the faraway plains, and Kovu smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm fine."

We all have our moments, I guess. Sometimes we can control it, and other times it just spills out of your fingers and your toes and the cracks between your teeth. And sometimes, you just have to let it out. And it helps. It really does.

I don't really know where this came from. I think it was always there...I think it's always there in everybody. And every so often, you just have to let it out. That's all this is, really. Dark sides are pretty fun if you know how to use 'em.