The Two Lions

Copyright 2009 by Stefan Bolz

Wind howls eerily through the streets. The city is deserted. Wet, broken pavement below dark, abandoned windows that watch like blinded eyes. The sporadic glow of a street lamp creates shadow more than light. I run. The piercing pain in my spine and rib cage is, right now, the least of my problems. As I slip on the wet asphalt and slam into a house wall, exhausted from hours of pursuit, I see that the red glow of my spine radiates through my shirt and jacket and on to the peeling plaster of the house I’m leaning against. My spine. Not only is it glowing bright red, it is pulsating with piercing pain as if a knife is being driven through it over and over. Each movement, each step, each breath brings the pain back to life only to die again moments later.


There are two female lions, dark and grey, as if painted and thereby prepared for the hunt and the kill. Since they appeared in the city, nobody dared to leave their homes. Whoever did, perished. The path from the front door to the car is a life and death gamble, each time anyone attempts it. Many have died. And today is my turn.


For hours I evaded them, as I did in almost every dream I had since I can remember. I was always the hunted, pursued by something or someone, but in the past I always escaped. Today is different. My fear of the two great grey lions is bone chilling. I can sense their authority, their deadly purpose. No mistakes. No regrets. No conscience. Just the clean instinct to kill, to feed their young. And tonight I am their prey. Like the smallest amount of blood attracting sharks over several miles, my glowing spine, my wound, will alert their heightened senses to me; stir their steps with deadly precision in my direction. There is nowhere to go for me. No place to hide. No comfort. No release. Terror took the place of sanity a long time ago it seems. I am avoiding the inevitable. They will find me. And when they do, they will kill me. And release will come only after unbearable pain, after a long tormented battle when my mind finally releases my body just to escape the horror.


As I stumble along the house wall holding on to anything just to keep me from falling down – somewhere in a dark back alley in a city without a name – I suddenly stop. “They will hunt me forever,” I think to myself. “There will be no rest, even in death. I will always be the hunted. I will come back as prey as I have before for eons of time. There will be no end. Unless I end it.” I cannot run anymore. I am not going towards hell. I am in it. Trying to escape the inescapable is the very definition of hell. Under enormous strain I force myself to stand up. The pain in my spine has prevented me for years from standing or walking or running in an upright position. “No,” I hear myself say. “Get up. Stand up. NOW”! I look back into the alley. The lions could be anywhere. My courage sinks again and is almost replaced by the much more familiar sense of terror. Better to just give up. Let it happen. Let them have me. “NO!” I am startled by the force of my own voice. “No!” Slowly, almost against my will, against the memory of every fiber of my being, and still expecting an attack at any moment, I leave the safety and darkness of the house walls and move to the middle of the street. A single light illuminates a circle around me. “Let them come,” I think. “Let them come.”

I move out of the weak beam of light, through the darkness of the back alley and onto a larger street. Car wrecks, abandoned long ago, cover the sides of the street. They are remnants of the horror that has been my life for all too long. My instinct tells me to walk in the shadows, along the walls, stay in hiding. But I do not. The yellow line in the middle of the street is still intact, as if showing me the way. To where, I do not know. The hair in the back of my neck stands up as I round a corner and enter a large, deserted, village square. A deep breath and I start walking towards the middle of the square. Dilapidated houses surround it, bearing silent witness to what is to come. I reach the center. Without turning around I know they are behind me. For only one second I hesitate then I turn around.


Both lions stand at the edge of the square. There is no urgency for them. This is it. They know there is no place for me to go. A low growl. Not a threat. Just a reminder of who is the alpha animal, who will leave this arena alive and who will die. Simple. But not to me. Something has changed. I can feel it. I can feel it in my breath, I can feel it in my bones, I can feel it in the deepest recesses of my soul. Something shifted within me. From the ground, where my glance fled to, right after I saw the lions, I look up, search for their eyes, demand their attention. Their eyes meet mine. I hold steady. I slightly lift my chin and start to walk towards them. There is no thinking now. There is just this moment. There is no past and the future has not been written, does not yet exist anywhere in the universe of time and space.


As I walk towards them, I can feel the glowing of my spine lessening. The pain escapes my body with every step I take. I breathe deeper, quieter. Calmness settles in. The image of a still deep lake penetrates my mind as I look at the lions who are now only a short distance away. When I reach them, they sit down. Even now, their heads are higher above the ground than mine. I look up to them. There is no more fear. For a split second we are equals, part of one pack with nothing but the utmost respect for each other’s being. Then something rises from within me, unequaled in strength and beauty and sheer joy. I let it arise, let it spill out, bridge the gap between me and the two lions, let it touch them, engulf them, enter their hearts. They lie down, agreeing, welcoming me into their world as their leader, the alpha animal.


I take off my jacket and my shirt. The glowing inside my rib cage and my spine is gone. No trace is left of it. Just a vague memory too long since vanished from my mind. One last glance at the lions and I turn my back at them and slowly walk away. The lions lay there, an ancient knowledge restored to our awareness. No words have ever expressed it clearer, no story has ever told it more precise, and no man has ever felt it more comforting in his heart. We are pack.