Abandonar toda esperanza

“They say the lion is the king of the jungle…” Gatorlord spoke to his gatorlings as if telling a bedtime story. “...but I’ve eaten plenty of lions…” he paused and took a deep breath, his snout just over the water, sending a ripple across the water and steam rising from it. “...and I never once choked on a crown.” He stared, proudly recounting hundreds of years of misdeeds around the world as a young gator.

“I’d say…” he started to drift, displacing water across the entire lake, gatorlings caught in the drift. “...you can’t give that title to an entire species.” Gatorlord turned to face a different section of the gatorlings. “That’s a title to be worn by one…” he growled viciously, gatorlings backing up gradually, afraid he’d attack if they moved too quickly, and he would. “...and by no other.”

Gator Lake was aptly named and appropriately treated. Wind itself didn’t dare tread on Gatorlord’s territory. The water was forever still and a distinct blood-red. As well, it was often covered in a layer of ominous, rolling fog. The sun seemed to never shine there. 

Locals knew the danger that lurked beneath the surface, though that danger rarely fully submerged. Goat and horse farms surrounded the shore of the lake until all their goats were torn apart and they were left with a single horse who managed to escape Gatorlord alive. He underestimated that horse, and since then had great respect for his sole survivor.

“Gatorlings…” Gatorlord furled his eyebrows and smirked. “...let’s go…”, he dropped his legs down to the bottom of the lake, and the head that was resting on the water’s surface rose into the air. Even at the lowest depth of the lake, Gatorlord stood well above the water. He turned in all directions to make menacing eye contact with the many gatorlings in the lake, then his facial features filled with indescribable ferocity as he finished his sentence, “EAT!”

All the gatorlings followed the towering reptile out of the water. It was a treat for them to travel for food, as well as a danger. Many of them had been eaten by Gatorlord, thinking they were coming for his portion. 

Scurrying quickly into a small town a good distance from Gator Lake, night fell at the perfect time. Were there more light out, Gatorlord would have been spotted in an instant. Still, the rumbling in every home should have been alarming enough.

Gatorlord approached a humble house, smelling the flesh inside. He tore off the nearest wall and the home flooded with gatorlings immediately. They surrounded a family of five on the couch and floor of the living room, awaiting the order.

Gatorlord looked down at the children, light from inside the house illuminating his malicious face from the bottom. The humans were frozen in fear. He made eye contact with what seemed to be the least scared child.

“Your father…” he motioned towards the father, in the fetal position on the couch. “...he forces you to the floor.” Gatorlord leans in, placing his snout near the father. “Tell me…has he truly…EARNED this right?”

“What d-do y-you mean?” the child stutters in response, her family waving for her not to. A couple of gatorlings leap to attack, unable to wait any longer.

‘CRUNCH’

Between two claws, Gatorlord crushed the two gatorlings and returned to playing with his food.

“I’m asking, child…” he sniffs the house and peeks around the exterior. “...how many has he…”, his face again turns ferocious, causing two of the humans to pee right away in pure terror. “KILLED?”

The humans couldn’t comprehend the question, as if killing was a way to provide value to the family. Unfortunately, this moment of pondering was too long. The prolonging of their demise was over. Gatorlord growled violently at all the gatorlings, who evacuated the house momentarily as he ate three of the family members. The other two, he picked up in his mouth and began to walk away with. The gatorlings feasted on plenty of scraps in the house.

Back to the lake they all went, Gatorlord dipped into the water to silence the screaming of his victims. He spoke with his mouth still around them, “The meat is always…”, the gatorlings perked up to listen to their master, “...so much sweeter…”, he turned and breathed steam onto the water. His features darkened, his eyes widened and he smiled cruelly, “...FULLY SATURATED.”

Gatorlord submerged fully and blood filled the spot above him as munching could be heard even outside of the water.

After the incident in town, a rare occurrence for the gators, the lake gained attention. A strange helicopter flew overhead, police started showing up and suited heroes arrived to search for Gatorlord. He felt his lake was getting too popular. It was time to move on. He and his gatorlings would make their home in the big city.