A red hot feeling coursed through my veins. Like a molten gold that never hardens a constant flow of lava going up and down my body, electrifying my skin, raising my hair on my back and haunches. Keeping me going. Focused, angry, but singular in my purpose. I will kill this man beast. Rip out his throat. Feel his marrow run down my jaw. It had been over a decade since I’d felt the sweet sensation. It was one of my mothers rules. But my mother was dead. Her head smashed in pieces in a way no animal would. Everything left to rot. No rhyme or reason save cruelty or greed. Of course I don’t mean my birth mother I never knew her but came to understand. The poachers my mom had saved me from had killed her as well.

Even still she had taught me from the tiniest of cubs never to hurt anything especially anything smaller than me. Out of love and a grudging respect. I had always obeyed. But now my mother was dead. Her head in pieces on the floor. Not eaten, nor mauled, just left to rot in our now bloody cave. My instincts were heightened to a scissor point. I couldn’t remember having ever felt this way before. Not really. But a long forgotten nostalgia and heat seems to come from somewhere. Rage. My mother had spent many a night with me cuddled on her lap. Teaching me to curb this emotion. Be a part of the family. Not lock me away. But I knew it was her man beast. I could smell him from the inside. And I knew he hadn’t realized the consequences of my mother being dead. If he had, she would most definitely still be alive. Has he really never heard the human phrase that my mother had vehemently hated “A tiger can’t change his stripes “.

I feel a twinge of guilt as I know I am about to prove her long held beliefs and her life’s work wrong. I am momentarily swept away by sadness. What will I do now. Mother had been my everything. She had taken care of me for as long as I could remember. I am suddenly jealous of the human’s ability to cry. I had once thought it a weakness, depriving them of the poker face needed when facing an enemy. But now I saw it as way to get these horrific and completely foreign feelings out of the body. And I begged the god that mother prayed to that I may be given the gift of tears just this once.

Of course I received no answer. And that only made my veins hotter. My thoughts more poison and singular as they had been. I no longer cared what happened to me. Without mother I was alone anyway. I arched my back let out a screech of fury and for the first time left my mothers broken side. There was only one thing I could do for her now. And I planned to execute it to a tee. To hell with what the consequences would be. I would do this one thing for my mother. For all she had given me. Life, love, happiness, what more could any being ask for. I would avenge her. If it was the last thing I did. I would find the man beast that took her from me and make him regret ever laying eyes on her.

CHANNEL SIX NEWS REPORT

Today an awful scene unfolded in a quiet rural bungalow. Famous Animal rights activist Mary White and her live in partner Ronnie James were seemingly attacked unprovoked by a tiger Ms. White had rescued from poachers as a baby and had raised on her own since that time ,over twelve years ago. This appears to be the first and only time that Stripes (the name she had given to the cub) has shown any sign of aggression violence or even distress. In fact neighbors say he acted more like a dog or a house cat. Following Mary around, doing whatever she asked, happily and without hesitation. No one had EVER heard of Stripes acting out in any way. She had often brought the tiger with her to elementary schools etc. to promote the protection of animals and their habitats. Unfortunately, Mr. James was the only one to survive the attack as Ms.White was pronounced dead on arrival. After surviving only superficial wounds he was in surprisingly high spirits. “I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t had the gun on me. Lord knows I didn’t have any reason to. Someone must have been looking out for me today. I just wish I would have been a split second quicker and been able to save Mary. But I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t relieved that that monster she called a pet is dead. And will never hurt another person. That’s the thing about wild animals. You never know when they’re gonna snap”.

There you have it. Straight from the lips of the only survivor Ronnie James in his bed at Memorial Hospital.

This attack seems to have started anew the debate about keeping wild animals as pets and how it pertains to the law…