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Stratasphur's throat emitted a low growl as King 'white noise' passed by, his repulsive smile etched permanently in her mind. She suppressed the bile that rose in her throat at the mere thought of the King Lion residing in her thoughts. With a scoff, Stratasphur had remembered she had meticulously planned a prolonged, torturous demise that would make it seem as though the 'poor' King had fallen victim to cannibals or a rabid lion!
"Oh, poor George," Stratasphur sneered under her breath, accompanied by a snicker, as King White Noise embarked on his journey towards the waterfall. The lioness stealthily slipped away from the pride, ensuring that her departure went unnoticed. Stratasphur stalked the brute, her eyes narrowing as she maintained a hunting crouch, her anticipation evident in the way she licked her lips and smirked. She could already taste the sweet crimson that would soon fill her jaws.
In due time, when White Noise was distracted, Stratasphur pounced. Her claws sank into his fur as the brute let out a cry, attempting to shake off the lioness to no avail. Stratasphur aimed for the back of his neck, sinking her teeth into the flesh before tearing away the muscle and skin, causing blood to gush forth. Contentment washed over Stratasphur as she hummed, her sickly grin widening with each bite and slash. She became intoxicated by the sensation of flesh and skin clinging to her claws, relishing the way her teeth sank into the brute's body and occasionally unintentionally lapped up his blood with her tongue.
"What a pitiful soul," Stratasphur muttered, briefly frowning before chuckling at her own words. King White Noise, teetering on the edge of death, pleaded for whatever remained of his life. "Please, pl-" King White Noise choked out, his throat filled with blood and bile as he coughed and struggled to breathe. Stratasphur peered down at the brute, simply smirking. She chose not to respond, seizing the opportunity to finish him off. With one final, brutal swipe of her paw, Stratasphur ended King White Noise's suffering. His body lay lifeless on the ground, a grotesque display of torn flesh and matted fur. Stratasphur stood over him, her chest heaving with a mix of exhaustion and triumph. She had succeeded in exacting her revenge, in making the King pay for the torment he had inflicted upon her. At least, what she had presumed was torment.
But as she gazed down at the lifeless form before her, a strange sensation washed over Stratasphur. It was not the satisfaction she had anticipated, nor the elation of victory. Instead, a hollow emptiness settled in her chest, a realization that her vengeance had not brought her the closure she had sought.
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