Shocker lay in his vine hammock, a glum look on his face that just never seemed to go away. Not since… Well, not since he'd received his powers in the first place. With great power, came great depression. Or at least it seemed so.
"Why can't I get what I want?" he hissed, thinking of the million billion things that had gone so horribly wrong in his life.
Right from the moment of his birth, it seemed that life had picked a target to tease and torment. Shocker had drawn the short straw.
But the powers had changed all that, surely? Made everything better? Allowed him to become one of the most powerful creatures on the planet? He felt truly important now—right?
Wrong. Shocker—more than anything else in the whole world—wanted desperately to die. After an incident with Simba, Nala and Haiba, he was killed. But then—and this was a surprising outcome—he came back to life. Whether it was magic or his powers themselves, he didn't know. It was a total mystery. And the most miserable curse of his life.
Every time he died—every single day—Shocker came back to life. It wouldn't stop. It just wouldn't. Not ever. It would continue—again and again and again—until the very end of time. And maybe even after that, too.
He'd heard that many lions would give their four legs to have just a slice of immortality. It was one of the most soughtafter gifts in the world. The power to keep on living—to survive—for ever. Not impossible—just a bit unlikely.
But Shocker didn't like to think of it as a gift. He would give anything just to become mortal once more. To have the ability to die. He'd tried to kill himself before, in various different ways. Jumping off cliffs, getting caught in stampedes, claws to the throat—you name it. Shocker had attempted this so many times to end his life, but every single time, he just kept coming back. The curse—or gift, depending on who you were talking to—was unbeatable.
It turned out that his worst enemy was one of his own powers.
Shocker closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to comprehend the depression that had plagued his body for such a long time. Why does life have to b e so cruel to keep me here? Why can't I just… die?
"You thinking about dying again?" a voice interjected into his thoughts.
"Hmm?" Shocker's eyes snapped open, and he craned his neck sideways to get a look at the lion sat a few feet away from him.
Shocker had recently picked up a partner in the form of a rather vicious lion known as the Interceptor. One of the far more intelligent souls on the earth—despite how insane he appeared to be. Very useful in coming up with evil schemes.
"I'll trust you not to meddle with my inner conflict," Shocker replied, sitting up from his resting position. "You can take your complaints and questions to Froggy."
"If he ever shows his ugly face again," the Interceptor retorted, a frown crossing his face. Froggy was another one of their so-called 'allies'—yet far less intelligent. Probably more of a lackey than a partner. Slave, even.
"He'll be back," Shocker assured him, hauling himself out of the hammock. "The weak ones always come crawling back to their masters."
He's getting all 'deep' again, thought the Interceptor with a roll of his eyes. Shocker had a habit for talking about how he was better than everyone else. The treacherous cub didn't exactly take into account just how pathetic he really was sometimes.
"Yeah—whatever," the Interceptor mumbled. "But that's not the point. We've been stuck here for days. No plans. Hardly any food. Just what do you propose that we do, huh?"
"Patience, Interceptor," Shocker said slowly, rolling his shoulders around in order to bring some strength back into them.
He'd been napping for quite some time. "Patience."
"Patience," repeated the Interceptor. "So you keep saying. But how is that going to help us in the long run? We might starve to death. I'm the survival expert and I'm still hungry."
"You'll live," Shocker told him. "And I lost my appetite for food quite some time ago." To tell the truth, he'd been starving himself deliberately in order to see if that would kill him for good. Sadly, that experiment wasn't going quite according to plan—much like everything else in his life.
"It won't hurt just to zip into the Pride Lands and—" the Interceptor began, but Shocker cut him off.
"No," he said firmly. "The Pride Landers cannot know that we're still alive and well. Especially after all of that business with Scar."
The Interceptor's frown widened. Scar was one of the most villainous lions to walk the earth. He died a long time ago, but thanks to Shocker's abilities, he rose back from the dead. It turned into a deadly battle, and in the end, Shocker prevailed. Suffice to say, Scar was now gone for good.
"What makes you think they even care?" the Interceptor asked. "We saved them all from that freak. If anything, we should have a free pass to live there."
"Don't be so absurd," Shocker snapped. "The inhabitants of the Pride Lands are a sneaky bunch. It won't take long for their suspicious minds to think up that we were involved with it somehow."
"Yeah—but we were," the Interceptor retorted, thinking of the incredible resurrection Shocker had performed. And it had all gone so horribly wrong… "Bringing him back to life was entirely our fault."
"That's beside the point," Shocker replied. "We—well, I—fixed everything. He won't be coming back again. I made sure of that." His eyes crackled with angry electricity. The Interceptor found this particularly alarming. This cub had serious issues.
"Whatever," said the Interceptor, "but I think there's still nothing wrong with killing a quick antelope for dinner. I'm starving."
"We are not returning to the Pride Lands," Shocker said. "It's completely out of the question. Although it will please you to know that I have come up with a new insidious scheme—far cleverer than my previous efforts."
"Why do I get the feeling that you always say that?" the Interceptor muttered under his breath.
"You see," Shocker began to explain, "my enemies—and yours, for that matter—are very… intelligent when it comes to facing off against us."
"Don't I know it?" the Interceptor exclaimed. "We've tried everything. Nothing works. The little mites are invincible. I've given up on catching 'em out."
"They are not invincible," Shocker said. "They're just… difficult. What we need is a far more efficient way of destroying them that doesn't even involve us being in the vicinity of the Pride Lands."
"And how do you propose we do that?" asked the Interceptor. "Sounds impossible to me."
"Not if you don't possess the knowledge that I do," Shocker retorted. "There are many ways to destroy a cub. Clawing and scratching is the general method, but if you're smart, then there are many more options available to you."
"Don't mock my methods," the Interceptor said. "There's nothing wrong with a prolonged hunt through the jungle."
"There is when your enemy keeps beating you again and again," replied Shocker. "Tell me something: Have you ever used poison before?"
"Poison?" The Interceptor's eyebrows rose. "Can't say I have."
"It's a splendidly effective method," Shocker told him. "And very simple, too. All we need to do is concoct a deadly substance and then unleash it into the water supply. It'll only be a matter of time before Simba, Nala and Haiba need to take a drink. And then…" He mimed someone's throat being slashed with a claw.
The Interceptor chuckled. "Ha-ha-ha! I like it! So we poison the little brats and watch as they vomit up their own guts!"
"From a moderately safe distance, of course," Shocker said. "It's the perfect plan. No one—not even the great King Mufasa—will be able to trace it back to us."
Shocker smiled. Today was going to be much happier than he first thought.