The Lost Doe Challice
Copyright © 2016 by Cheetah Jason
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means – except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews – without written permission from its publisher.
* Chapter One*
I padded in total silence down the cold and equally barren tinsel laden street, my bare feet slapping painfully against the cold, hard concrete and my toes on fire and nearly numbed by the many patches of freshly fallen late December snow blanketing the many sidewalks and rooftops of downtown Waldorf like a tarp delivered straight from Maahes himself from up above. The many sights and smells of the mostly all bear owned and only eateries and bakeries I constantly passed to and from on my daily way to Holsten Avenue and back made my mouth water and my stomach rumble, vigorously. Hunger was prominently one of the more well-known cancers and epidemics of this city. Well, that, and the more than many bigoted, inbred assholes that overpopulated more than a shitload of the immediate area, and even had the full on fucking audacity to be head honchos of the fucking nation as a trumped up whole. These same fucking slime balls were the exact same savages who had stolen mine and my family’s land and squashed us like insecticide abominations; just the very same as they did with many African native felines and all other species from there and chained them all on ships with a promise of land of their own, only to literally break many of their backs with even more of the stress and heartache of pain inducing labor. The shit really hit the fan and everything finally spiraled from there when a great spotted hyena by the name of Frederick Douglas alas set the very last of his kind free along a perilous trip aboard the underground railroad and made it safely into their grand central terminal of freedom to north; where the slaves were gratefully rejoiced and liberated under a new world order. The scandalous bears eventually turned all the fucking tables at this little piece of news, further dividing up the country and pushing the former slave settlers way beyond their limit than they had ever once been pushed in the roasting hot cotton fields and buck breaking stalls all than ever before. Many great hyenas, cheetahs, hippos, and all other great species of the promise land of Africa unfortunately lost their current lives in the bloody battle and the entire homeland of America was in a state of absolute chaos and turmoil before the remaining rebel forces finally gained the most and upper hand in taking back at least most of the condemned land claimed by the Ursadae and lived rather peacefully for a good long while, only for the bears to strike viciously once again with apartheid, segregations of schools and other educational resources, and most of all, buttfucked Jim Crow. Many of the African species were barred from their loved ones, homes businesses, schools, and most of all proper nourishment. We were divided up; equally, but still more than wholly foul and unjustly. Wolves, Foxes, Cougars, and all other American non ursadae species such as us deer were packed up and shipped like postal boxes to the reservations near the hills have eyes style region of the town. The African and all other foreign originated or bloodline species got to stay near the city limits, but just like the entirety of the rest of us, were still heavily forebode and frowned upon from entering the many vital areas around the intercity emplacements, such as Coldstone Creamery and everyone’s favorite of Tyburn Shrimp and Gumbo that was stolen from a very benign and genuine Leopard couple from Louisiana in the early to late 1940s. Now, here we fully are; knee high deep in a pile of fly culminating shit that is now more than way up to our necks that we could disgustingly attempt to climb out of. I swear, no matter what the costs, no matter what I have to do; no matter what’s the chances of giving up, there was no fucking way in Set’s holy hell I was going to sit up here and let myself, my family, or any other species that didn’t at all deserve it suffer and be the supposed dominant’s all-time play toy and stepping stool. It was now fully time for the prey to unknowingly become reborn into the ultimate predator.
Travel back in time to the year of 1950. Young doe Margaret Challice is only thirteen at the particular day in time, and struggling the absolute hardest to eat; being one of the most shut out species in America of the then heavily southern region of Waldorf, Maryland, even more so than us African felines. Her father works his hardest as a brakeman for the still Jim Crow ensued Consolidate Rail corporation while her mother handles business down at the local tuberculosis ward, but still can just barely rub two nickels together to keep bread on the table and the lights on; while desperate measures are currently being taken by the local supremacists movement just around the very next corner. Jennifer Jasiri Gisselbrecht, born July 1st, 1996 to her lovely parents Darrell and Karen, and formerly known by her two past pen names of Wolfen Saunderson and Aaron Solomon, is a female spotted hyena author (being reborn again as a female spotted hyena and only a Spotted Hyena) and writer of Action/Adventure fiction and Crime fiction/Thriller books which hails from and currently resides in Columbia, Maryland.