The Lion

The lion inside. It waits, prowling around silently. His hot breath and raw energy lie dormant. A vision of captivity, albeit, a temporary one. His handler frees him from time to time. And on those rare occasions, he does what lions do best: destroy. Usually its the ones who taunted him in his cage, thinking that he would never; could never retort. Foolish of them. Did they not realize that a lion caged is still a lion? Now they know, but their knowledge is of little future use. They lie in tatters beneath the paws of a beast who barely knows he killed. Instinctual urge to be a carnivore brought about their demise, or was it the handler? He always knew the danger of his primal friend. After all, keeping him appeased was his job. Hundreds of pounds of meat per day, to satiate the fire inside a beast who could take down a gazelle. But it wasn't gazelles that the lion hunted, any time he was let out of the cage. Usually it was those who stood near the iron bars, jeering the one they wished they could be. Their confidence was a fraud. Vertical iron bars, an inch thick, giving mettle to spineless beings. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was why the handler opened the cage from time to time. To see a holy wrath poured out. To see what happens when a 550 pound lion lets out a little agression on a 170 pound man. The clean up was never fun, but the handler knew what he was getting into when he opened the cage. The thunder released from the chest of the lion was uncanny, it made the handler's hair stand on end. His fierce friend always roared a final warning before he threw himself on those who taunted him. Wonder paired with disbelief prevented the taunters from fleeing. The roar's deafening echo returned to find the lion already finished with his quarry. The sun setting on a gruesome scene, and the handler locking the cage.


P.S. I told you guys, way back when, that Dev was going to be big. Told ya so: