American Lion (Panthera atrox)

[Smilodon-Rex]

The American Lion is not extinct.

You might not believe it, but my job as a park ranger in Alaska is usually quite dull. A lot of campers report strange encounters in the woods. Some claim to see things at night. Some hear things in the woods. There have been thousands of reports regarding supposedly suspicious incidents during my tenure. I have investigated a lot myself. But they always ended in reasonable explanations. From a bear shitting in the woods, to a pair of particularly passionate squirrels, there is always a reasonable explanation.
By now, you might have checked the Wikipedia page for the American Lion.
You might already know that it stood up to eight feet tall. You might know that it was 25% larger than the modern lion. You might know that it weighed half a ton, bore claws arguably deadlier than the saber-tooth, and traveled territory throughout the United States. You might even know that it delayed the migration of human beings across the Bering Sea. Because it hunted us.
This is all common knowledge. No bullshit. It’s available to anyone willing to seek it. Remains of the animal were identified via mitochondrial DNA in the La Brea Tar Pits, which are located in modern day Los Angeles. Cave markings confirmed that they could stretch up to twelve feet tall on their hind legs. Modern estimates insist they were wiped from existence approximately 11,000 years ago. Probably by us.
But there is one detail unavailable online.
The American lion did not go extinct. I encountered one two years ago.
’
It was a Saturday evening. My partner and I were stuck in the Ranger cabin for an overnight shift. We hoped nobody would call. A night without calls meant a night full of movies. RJ and I usually spent our time on the job watching Jurassic Park, or Godfather, or something similar. Plus, the snow storm in town was expected to pick up momentum throughout the evening. Neither of us wanted to go outside and test it.
Murphy’s Law won out in the end. The phone rang shortly after three in the morning. RJ groaned, walked over, and answered like it were any other loon on a Tuesday. Then his dark features turned white as a ghost.
“Slow down. Slow down. Ma'am, what is your location?”
My worker gestured to me wildly. Two fingers out and a thumb up. Time to load the guns. I scanned the cabin desperately for the keys and tried to get everything ready while RJ grabbed our jackets and swept out the door. White sheets of ice whipped at our uncovered faces from all directions as soon as it opened.
“We are heading over there now. Apply pressure to the wound.” He turned to me and tried to mute the receiver as I hopped inside and turned the keys in the ignition of our four-wheel drive. “Fuck, Matt, we’re going to need an ambulance.”
RJ barked the location to me like a drill Sergeant while he tried to keep the woman on the phone. I could hear her frantic cries through the receiver. It did not sound good.
“He’s bleeding. He’s bleeding so much. It was so big. So big, Sir.”
The moment we pulled up to the small campsite, it was evident that we had missed the worst of the slaughter. Blood seeped into the snow in a horrible trail that led from the fireplace to the cabin. I parked the car and opened the door. Then a fired a round into the air. I thought any predators would be deterred by the sound of gunfire.
RJ followed my lead and edged out of our SUV quietly. The snow obscured most of our vision. But the path to the cabin appeared to be clear. He gestured two fingers over his shoulder like a fucking GI Joe soldier. I stupidly followed his lead.
We were about halfway to the cabin when we were attacked. My partner was standing two feet in front of me. I never saw the animal until it was too late.
RJ screamed before the lion took out his jugular. It was a pitiful sound. Like the last bit of juice being sucked through a straw. Two quick swats from dinner plate sized paws shut him up quick.
The commotion must have drawn attention from people inside the cabin. Somebody opened the door and stared at the carnage in a dumbfounded stupor. I sprinted towards them and locked the bolt behind us.
Three teenagers stared at me stupidly as the lion audibly disemboweled RJ outside.
I broke down and cried in front of them.
The kids said nothing until the creature lumbered away a few minutes later. The tall boy stuck out a hand in my pitiful direction and quietly introduced himself as Brian. The boy on the bed was John. He was sitting up with a makeshift bandage pressed to his arm. Blood soaked through the cloth in red. But most of it looked dried. The girl crying by the bedside was Sadie.
They all wanted asked the same thing.
“What is it? We didn’t get a look look.”
I tried to supply the rational answers. Wolverines can look disturbing to those who have never seen one. Sightings of mountain lions this far north are rare, but possible. I tried to appear authoritative. I tried not to shake the horror of what just happened. Sadie didn’t believe it for a second.
“That thing was bigger than a mountain lion. You saw it. what is it?”
I fumbled for more rational answers. Sweat started to pour into my shirt as the seriousness of our situation started to creep in. I was about to reply with more bullshit answers when a loud, obnoxious scraping shook the cabin from head to toe.
“Oh my God… it knows we’re in here,” whimpered John.
“Why would it do this? Didn’t it just eat?” begged Brian.
“It’s doing it for fun,” whispered Sadie.
The noise stretched across the length of our room slowly. As if the lion were dragging its nails slowly across the walls. Then the sound started to rise. It started near ground level and slowly went higher. To the windows. To the loft. To the roof. After one final thud, it soon became clear that the lion was standing on top of the house.
Then it jumped.
The entire ceiling sagged generously. Bits and pieces of snow slipped in through unseen cracks. I beckoned for the kids to follow me towards the door before the beast jumped again.
When it did, the wood started to crack.
An entire panel fell onto the floor in front of us. A small pillar of snow started to leak openly into the kitchen sink. The lion jumped again, and again, as more planks from the ceiling fell haplessly to the floor. I opened our door gently, so as not to disturb the creature, before one final jump caused the entire ceiling to give way.
The four of us squeaked out of the collapsed cabin as the lion writhed and growled at the thousands of splinters assuredly sinking into its fur. We passed the remains of RJ. He did not leave much more behind than a shell of bones and rib cages. He looked like a spent lobster.
John’s horrified scream drew back the attention of the creature. I could hear it stirring in the rubble. I pulled my gun off my shoulder as the kids ran imto the car and fired a shot in the general direction of the cabin. The animal screamed. It sounded so human that it made me pause and reconsider. Then I raced towards the car, opened the door, and threw my key in the ignition.
We never looked back.
The car stalled out in a snowbank three quarters of the way back to my ranger cabin. I made the group get out and run. Part of me felt like it was watching us. Waiting for another opportunity to strike. When we made it back, I sounded every single Goddamn alarm I had.
“
The incident was thoroughly investigated by the National Park Service. My coworker’s death was determined to be a bear attack. The roof collapse caused by natural occurrences. I told them that was impossible. I told them no bear could cause injuries or damage like that. No bear could launch itself on top of a house. But we never had any evidence. And so our story was, for the most part, ignored.
Regardless, I know what I saw. The American Lion is still alive and well. It could be hunting people as we speak. It could be stalking the same south suburban woods we wander with so much blind trust.
Sometimes, I can still hear it scream at night. I know its not alone.
[i][i](source) (story by FirstBreath1)[/i][/i]
[i][i]http://scaryhorrorstories.net/post/179932553726/the-american-lion-is-not-extinct[/i][/i] Reply