The cell was dark, dank and entirely malodorous. Mildew grew up the sides of the concrete walls, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe the longer I was here. But the longer I stayed here, the more I found that I really did not care if I suffocated. The only time I could relax was the time spent in my cell. As long as I was in my cell, I was safe. Safe; I laugh in the face of that word. Oh, what I would give to truly feel safe. What I would give to feel love and acceptance. What I would give to… oh, what's the use in dreaming. That can never be a reality. Well, at least not my reality. I was destined to be alone forever; to be an eternal outcast. I was tolerant enough to accept my God-given fate, or rather, face. I was a monster. My own mother told me so, but that was a long time ago. There was only one time in my life that I was allowed to feel truly happy, and that time was long gone as well. So now the only thing left of me was this; a flimsy bag to hide my monstrosity of a face, a lonely cell, and an aching soul.
The silence was suddenly attacked with an unbearable, yet all too familiar, screech. I stood swiftly, readying myself to face my impending doom. I knew what was coming next. The guards would drag me up two flights of steps, down a narrow hall, and finally deposit me inside a surprisingly roomy cage. I would then be forced to fend off whatever predator dare to enter, whether it be a wild animal or a tirade of bulky, angry men. Personally, I hoped for a wild animal; a lion or tiger preferably. I always hated killing men, though it was easy enough. The shah spared my first year with him to have me trained for combat with the country's best martial artist. At the time, I had found it quite interesting; but that was when I actually considered the shah a fellow human being. If I'd known the evil that man intended to use my skills for, I would have run the other way as fast as my legs could carry me. It was far too late for that now, though. The only thing I could now do was stand still as one guard pinned me to the ground so the other could rob me of my bag. Air cooled my face, and my eyes squeezed shut, preparing myself for the onslaught of insults thrown to me by a merciless audience. Sharp gasps pierced the air, and in that moment I was reassured that nobody would ever love me.
As fate has it, a lion was ushered in to face me. Poor, pitiful creature; one of nature's most dangerous and respected animals, and yet it still held no chance against me. I was a barbarian, a freak of nature. Carefully I crouched down into place. I would be sly and attack when least expected. The lion would interpret my behavior as submission, when in all reality I was preparing to strike. As I slowly drew my knife from the waistband of my loincloth, the beast snarled, and ducked low. A sure sign it was about to pounce. This was my shot. With only one opportunity to get this right, I lunged forward, effectively catching the lion off guard, and came crashing hard on the dirt. I thrust my dagger into the lion's side. It roared to life as I struck it fervently. This was easy. This was right. This was me; a savage. So, when the lion finally passed, feeling more confident than I should have, I stood tall and screamed to the horrified audience… "Fear me, for I am the most dangerous creature to ever exist!"