HELL'S LOVELY - Chapter II
Hello! Should I be updating this more quickly, less quickly? Is this a good time for y'guys to wait? Lol. Tell meh in de reviews.
Ah... I see we have some new people! One complimenting, the other insulting. Well, let me clear something for y'guys -
A lot of people review and read other peoples' fics so that they can get reviews themselves. One thing; it doesn't do any good with sulkenwolfpup. You don't do that to sulkenwolfpup, as all my reviewers have probably noticed. So if you want to review me, do it because I'm good, not because you want attention. Just clearing that up, in case anyone out there was... you know.
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The gorge. No... but for some reason, he seemed to associate his placing with the gorge of his father's death. Dark, translucent figures with orbs of red darted about the area. He knew he was dreaming, because it was something that'd happened before in life... and the past never repeats itself, right? But something, yes, definitely something was wrong with this dream. Wildebeests? Ah, yes, that must have been what the dark shapes were. For some reason he was watching them from far, quite far above... even more-so than in the original stampede. Why...? Hrm, he guessed it mattered not. The dream would, naturally, be tweaked.
Even though he could see the translucent wildebeests below, his eyes were fixed on something different... his uncle Scar, standing in front of him. He appeared translucent as well, and with a lighter nose in addition. His expression shone with only hatred... seemed that was the only emotion emitted from his uncle. But, for some reason, he did not seem at all powerful to the golden one before him. He seemed... almost small. Several inches below him.
The both of them seemed to be moving backward, and this for some reason filled him with fear. The young lion had mastered walking backward long before... why was he so afraid now? All he knew was the further back he went, the warmer the air became... and the more sweat poured down his form. Finally, he felt his hind stalk slip... before he knew it he was hanging! Obviously the dream had been tweaked quite a lot!
Hanging on only with his paws now, he struggled to climb atop the peak of... Pride Rock? Yes, it was Pride Rock, wasn't it... well that's odd, the stampede had taken place in a gorge, not below Pride Rock...
Below Pride Rock! Stealing a glance down... but there were no longer wildebeests... only fire. Not as though he was complaining about the lack of danger... fire was no less dangerous! In a moment of panic, his jaw dropped open... not caring to close it, he turned back to face his uncle. Planted upon the lion of mention's maw was a smirk... one that seemed so devoted to everything that was happening. The gleam of villainy was still wormed into his expression, particularly reflected in his eyes... eyebrows furrowed and eyes slitted, sinister with there fully open, and yet squashed against the bags below appearance.
The younger could only hang there... hoping that by some miracle he would be saved. Feeling himself slip more, panic filled the lion... death was to be upon him... but — ach, no, still there. Argh! That feeling, that was called pain. Glimpsing the area before him, he made out Scar, now only inches from him, claws dug into that of mention's paws. It seemed every moment the younger made any move whatsoever, Scar's claws dug deeper. Finally blood was drawn.. by now, the pain was horrific. Why was his uncle doing this? And furthermore — what was he doing in the first place?
'Ah, now this looks familiar...' came the voice of the older. 'Where have I seen this before... — lemme think hrm...'
IDIOT! DARNET LEGGO! YOU'RE HURTING ME — DON'T WASTE MY TIME JUST THROW ME DANGIT!
'Oh yes, I remember,' Scar continued with a smirk. 'This is just the way your father looked before he died.'
DON'T BRING HIM UP YOU HUSSI JUST THROW ME FOR AIHEU'S SAKE!
'And here's my little secret... ‚—————"
WHAT? WHADDID 'E SAY? DID YOU HEAR HIM? AWW DANGIT WHADDID 'E SAY!
Well, emotions took over from there. What did he say anyway? Ah well, it mattered not because now he was on top of the fiend... hrm, I wonder why... wait a minute DON'T DISCONNECT ME YOU IDIOT GET OUTTA HERE WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO —
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Awakening, Simba was suddenly jolted back to reality. What a strange dream that was!
He lowered cranium, attempting to return to slumber. However, such proved to be impossible. Much as he tried to fall asleep, he lay awake, tossing and turning. After a moment or so, he began to feel as though he were being watched. Out of fear, his head snapped toward direction of the entrance. Yes, he was being watched. The tall figure of his uncle stood, eyes glimmering in the light, like little green fires ignited with insanity. Although they drew fear into Simba's own eyes, he was determined to continue to stare fixedly at his uncle.
Scar was the first to speak.
"What are you doing up so late?"
"I couldn't sleep," said Simba, "What are you doing in such a feat?"
"Business," made Scar's edgy reply, as he departed the cave and turned. His walk, although sly as ever, was edged with a slight limp. Simba, though he knew well how rude it was to wonder such things, couldn't help letting his mind slide to what might have been the cause of his uncle's strange walking pattern.
"Uncle Scar, wait!" Simba pleaded, taking off after his uncle. "Where are you going?" It was a foolish question, yet the first he could think of.
Scar eyed him fixedly, glaring with a tint of suspicion. "I am going to my home at the back of Pride Rock..." he responded through gritted teeth. "And you are not to follow."
Simba did not appear convinced. Sitting upon lanky haunches, he gave his uncle a dull expression, appearing unimpressed. "Why not?"
"I am fatigued, I am wounded... I do not need your company to darken my mood further."
"Wounded?" Simba repeated, "how? What were you doing, uncle Scar?" — noticing Scar's glare and obvious refusal to reply — "Come on, you can tell me!"
"Indeed not, in fact you would be the one I'd be least inclined to tell."
Slyly drawing his form further along — yet, indeed, limping — Scar slunk off.
Well, certainly enough to sleep on.