literature

Be Prepared! (Human!ScarxReader): Part 1

Deviation Actions

Published: Mar 19, 2015

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Literature Text

~Author's Note: Human Scar. That is all. <3 Enjoy!!~

~Also, animals are considered tribes (i.e. Lion Tribe, Hyena Tribe, etc) and a person's race, though the human versions retain animalistic qualities ~

The unobscured, merciless African sun beats down upon your bare flesh and yet you’re unfazed as you slink through the burning savannah grass, bone-dagger in hand, and follow the lingering scent of the prey. Your tapered (e/c) eyes flit about you nervously every few seconds—you’re far beyond your tribe’s territory and into another’s, but you were forced to venture farther than ever in search of food. The scent of your prey remains unadulterated by that of unwelcomed hunters.

Moving with soundless steps, the grass brushes against the exposed planes of your arms, stomach, and legs when you lower to your haunches and fingers to slither across a small clearing behind a fallen log. Just beyond it, you can hear the thick slapping of hair against a taut hide and the occasional snorts of a zebra. It’s small, but it’s better than nothing.

You carefully scan the surrounding area to ensure you’re alone. Seeing no one, you move to round the log when the blood-curling yips of a Hyena tribe echo in the distance.

Shit! You growl to yourself. Why didn’t I sense them?

The grass around you sways against your weight, and you realize you’re upwind from them. You curse yourself mentally for failing to notice this, but there’s no time for reprimands. The three gray-clad hunters don’t seem to have noticed you or the zebra yet, although they’re closing in at a rapid pace, so you hurriedly leap over the log and dart silently to the unsuspecting creature. You pounce, wrapping your arms around its neck with a swift, heaving motion that throws it onto its side in a fit of bucking hooves. The dagger slits its throat while your free arm acts as a muzzle to the zebra’s whinnies and cries.

“Be silent, you stupid animal,” you hiss as it continues to struggle. Your keen hearing suddenly picks up the abrupt change in the Hyena’s treading as they do to your prey’s nickers. If they find you, there will be no defending your hunt; as skilled of a fighter as you are, you can’t handle three against one, especially if they’re filthy tricksters like the Hyenas.

The zebra gradually stills in your grasp, its heavy head collapsing into your chest. You listen closely for the intruders’ fading footsteps for a solid minute before you decide it’s safe to emerge. You wriggle out from beneath the zebra and immediately prep your satchel to place portions of meat into when you something snaps to your left and, a second later, a massive weight pounces onto you that you instinctively writhe against till you’re pinned to the ground by the wrists.

Above you, the Hyena hunter yips and bares a sadistic grin as you growl defensively. “How very nice of you to do the dirty work for us,” he says with thick sarcasm.

You buck underneath him. “Get off of me, you pathetic vulture,” you hiss.

More yips near you with the arrival of his fellow hunters, one male and the other female, though the male appears blatantly stupid. The female, however, eyes you with coal black irises and lowers onto her russet haunches till the tethered beads and shells clatter in the dirt. “You’re not from Pride Rock, are you?” she smirks, grabbing your jaw.

You snatch your face away and send a hard bite towards her retracted hand as a warning. “Oo! Feisty,” she cackles as does her male counterparts. “Hey! Ed, back off the food and quit slobbering all over it.”

The drooling male nods rapidly with a stupid grin and shifts back and forth in hindered anticipation. “So what do we do with her, Shenzi?” the Hyena above you asks.

Shenzi, the female, purses her lips in overdramatic consideration. “Well, Banzai,” she drones, “I’ve never been one against eating Lion.”

Her fangs glint in the bright sun and send a violent jolt through your panting body while those horrible Hyena cackles fill your ears.

“Neither have I!” Banzai cheers.

“What a coincidence!” Shenzi pats him hard on the thick, charcoal fur vest he wears, Ed simply nodding like a fool in the background.

Banzai shifts atop of you but keeps his firm hold on your left wrist to allow his partner to grab your right one. “Ladies first,” he says.

“Don’t mind if I do!” She whips out a jagged knife from her thigh sheath and angles it towards your chest. “This might hurt.”

Your breathing is erratic while you squirm violently, desperately—you have too much pride to scream or cry for help—still managing to hiss deafeningly when she flips the weapon so her thumb is on the rat-skull pommel and raises it above her head.

“What on Earth are you idiots doing?” a droning, dry voice asks with forced interest, almost as if it was a complaint. All three Hyenas freeze and glance up at the person.

“S-Scar!” Banzai stutters and releases you; Shenzi is more reluctant to do so and grips your throat, but sheathes her knife. The only scent you can pick up on is the overwhelming musk of the hunters, and yet something tells you the voice doesn’t belong to one of their kind—Hyenas don’t back down easily to anyone but a male Lion.

Banzai stands and holds his palms outward. “We were just deciding how to get rid of this Lioness hunter,” he says in the most unconvincing voice possible.

Whoever he’s addressing makes a resounding, groaning sigh that indicates he’s aware that it’s a lie. “Ed,” he calls dryly. The still drooling male cocks his head excitedly. “Eat?”

The male nods rapidly. “Yea, yea! Eat! Eat!” he pants and runs his claws up and down your right flank that you kick away.

Banzai growls quietly at having been sold out and exchanges a peeved look with Shenzi. “Surely you’re not foolish enough to kill a Lion within the Pride Lands,” Scar mutters and you hear the rhythmic rapping of claws against bark. Every 's' is a serpentine hiss within his oddly accented voice.

“Of course not!” Banzai lies again. “We were…planning on killing her outside the Pride Lands!”

The rapping stops. “Bring her here,” he orders. Shenzi uses her grip on your throat to haul you to your feet and ignores your incessant hissing and growling as she drags you to the Lion and throws you to the ground before the tree he’s leaning against.

You meet two bare feet with black fur-cuffs about the ankles and follow the sun-bronzed skin upward over slender legs draped with a tight, russet and Tuscan red kanga; up a thinly muscled abdomen and chest adorned with fangs, beads, and feathers and painted with striking claw-like designs, and to a slim, angled face that bares the minimalist of interest you’ve ever seen. His piercing, glass green eyes study your indignant expression, the jagged scar crossing his left one stretching when it narrowed.

“An outsider,” Scar hums. His thick, black mane of hair tumbles back over his narrow shoulders as he runs a clawed hand through it with a dark chuckle. “It’s very dangerous to wander into another Pride’s territory.”

Just the sound of his voice is condescending, you scowl and avert your eyes. But I’m obliged to protect my life.

You exhale through flared nostrils. “I was searching for food. It’s becoming scarce in my Pride’s territory.”

“And so you tried to steal from another’s?” he asks in feigned shock and clicks his tongue three times as a scold. He sits on his haunches so you’re both at eye level, slipping his lips to your ear to whisper, “You know, you could be killed for trespassing. All I have to do is say the word and those Hyenas”—he forcefully makes you look at the trio who wait impatiently nearby—“Will indulge themselves without a moment’s hesitation.”

You wrench out of his grasp, your claws digging into your palms. “Release me,” you growl.

He smirks and upturns his nose dramatically to the side. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” his throaty, haughty voice breathes. “Your only option is to die by those idiots, since I truly prefer not to soil my hands as I tend to be very…messy when I eat.”

You shudder at the sound of his cynic chuckle. Scar suddenly grins at a notion that pops into his head and hums. He stands and saunters over to the fallen log where he lazily sits with his legs crossed and weight into his palms—Shenzi automatically jostles you forward to his new position with enough force to cause you to catch his elevated foot.

The glint in his tapered irises made you cringe. “Or,” he draws out, raising your chin with his foot. “I offer you a way out, but you’ll be in debt to me.”

“Absolutely not,” you spit. “I’d rather die than be your slave.”

“Temper, temper,” he drones. He glances up at the Hyenas who begin to inch closer out of excitement from hearing the word ‘die’ and then back at you. “Consider it wisely, Lioness. You can die like a mongrel, or, at the very least, live as a very useful resource for me that I guarantee you’ll reap glorious benefits from.”

Every instinct within says to take the route to survival; endure the humiliation to live another day until you can have your revenge. Your fangs nearly pierce your lip. “Alright,” you mutter.

Scar leans in. “‘Alright’ what?” he whispers, raking a claw through your (h/c) hair that turns into an agonizing hold that allows him to yank you forward between his parted legs, your body arched up to his.

Rage surges through your rigid figure. “Alright…I’ll accept your offer.”

“And…?”

You glare dead at his sadistic eyes. “I’ll be your ‘resource’.”

His thin lips curl into a wicked smile, the Hyenas all groaning in disappointment and tearing into the zebra instead. “Wise decision, dear,” he says. "Oh! And there is one more thing."

You don't even bother asking for he brushes his nose across your cheek and to your ear once more. "This is a permanent employment."

What he's implying dawns on you, and before you can cry in protest, his fangs pierce the flesh of your neck, tearing a strained wail from you as he marks you as his sole property. Blood trickles from the punctures that he languidly laps up, purring from the iron taste that fills his greedy mouth. Despite the involuntary shudder from him licking more than what's necessary and even sucking a bit, you're stunned when he pulls back, smirks, and goes to join the trio in the feast.

You collapse into the log with a ragged, muffled whimper and pound your fist into the wood. Coming here was such a mistake…a horrible, stupid mistake, and this was only the beginning.