Nemesis

I was born during a terrible era of my pride. The hyenas outnumbered my mother and her accompanying ladies seven to one. My mother had been in hiding as every last lioness fell to ravenous, foaming jaws of the savage hyenas. They acted blindly, ruthlessly— almost as though driven mad by sickness. That is when I was born. In the blood of the fallen, tainted in the genocide. It was then, I had decided, I would avenge the fallen. How my mother had kept us hidden from slaughter, I will never know.

As I aged and weaned from my mothers teat, I begged for stories of her hunts. How brave she was. Her tactics and thoughts. I became obsessed. Each growing day I would wake early to find a stray skimmer or a gaggle of beetles to batter and crush beneath my paws. When I began to join my mother on hunts, and she gave me direct hunting lessons, I learned quickly on spotting the weakest links, their old wounds or vulnerable tendons. I became quite the pride and joy of my mother in keeping us well fed and protected.

Of course, as all must do, my mother succumbed to her age on the day of my adulthood trials. She had taught all she knew to me and whispered in my ear how proud she had become. Her final words whispered quietly that she knew I was ready to become the jaws of justice for her slaughtered sisters. It was then... I swore I would become the Hyenas Nemesis, alone. I would bathe in their blood and their rib cages. Feast on their flesh as they had done to us. They would learn...

They would learn what terror feels like once more. When gazed upon me, they would gaze upon death herself and fall to their bellies. They would roll and accept the jaws I deliver to their throats. They would. Oh yes...they would fear me... Nemesis.