• Published 21st Nov 2020
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The One True King - JDPrime22



Can Equestria’s greatest heroes coexist with these mythical and majestic beasts… or will they have to accept that their rule has come to an end? For the rule of the one true king, Godzilla, has returned.

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Chapter 29 – Not the Only King

Chapter 29

“This planet doesn’t belong to us. Ancient species owned this earth long before mankind. And if we keep our heads buried in the sand, they will take it back.”

William Randa

Black Skull Island

In the coming twilight, the creatures of Black Skull Island heard a thunder unlike any other. For it was a rift that disturbed the natural balance, a cry that shuddered the skies and trembled the earth. A tear through the island’s concealing storms that was so great and so terrible that it washed all across the island and beyond.

The cry filled the heavens and all the earth and then it was silent. It was so. And it could not be ignored by the creatures that inhabited the island.

The tree lines shuddered, almost as if a tremendous wind had breathed against the tips and tilted them so very subtly. Only, it was much more than just a breath. The disturbance grew even more massive, until the trees could not contain them any longer. Breaking free into the falling sunlight, into the coming night with an aurora borealis flowing in the darkness above, thousands of birds took to the skies. No. Not birds.

Psychovultures and Leafwings dotted the twilight with their darkened bodies, numbering in the thousands as all the sky above Black Skull Island was filled with them. Hellish screeches and shrieks were thrown back and forth, each faction of flying creature in a tangled unity that only lasted as long as they were separated. Whenever they made close contact, they warred, they tore each other apart, because they very well could. The cry yearned for them to be free. It broke their bonds and left no moral reality left within them. Nothing but bloodlust, destruction, and above all… freedom.

They weren’t the only creatures to try and escape the hold of Black Skull Island.

The trees tore themselves from the earth itself and moved onward in a slow, subtle stampede. The trees were but limbs to the several dozen Mother Longlegs, the fearsome creatures breaking free to enter into the valley as their own moving forest. Sker Buffaloes emerged from the rivers and lakes scattered across the island, their jutted horns wielding moss and scum that clung to their shaggy bodies. Spore Mantises sprouted from their own bodies, the massive insects moving in tandem out of the dark forests and into the dying light.

Death Jackals moved in packs, a countless number of them swarming down the hills with savage rage as they turned to follow the call. Sirenjaws rose from the nearby rivers, the large crocodile-like beasts roaring loudly before they followed the flow of traffic. The washing wave of the animal stampede. Magma Turtles were slow but steady, carrying small islands on their backs as they stepped free from the lakes they rested in. Spirit Tigers broke from the tall grass and trees, the mythical creatures rushing across the valleys to reach the shoreline.

Alongside the Death Jackals.

Alongside the Mother Longlegs.

With all the creatures both big and small of the island. But there were others, ones that burrowed beneath the earth and stayed hidden in fear of the one who forced them underground in the first place. The ones who hunted within the graveyards of past battles waged millennia ago. The ones who slithered and stirred the nightmares of the inhabitants of Black Skull Island. And by the call of the new King of the Monsters, the Halakrah made themselves known above all others.

The Skullcrawlers.

Ripping themselves out of the earth with their sharp, jagged talons, dozens of the beasts screeched and proceeded to stampede to the shoreline. In that ferocious stampede, the Skullcrawlers ensured that nothing got in their way so as they could reach their new alpha. The darkness had settled and the forgotten king was resting, or he had awakened as they had, but it would not matter.

They had no reason to fear the Mountain who Thunders Death any longer. The king and the guardian and the god of Black Skull Island no longer had any influence or control over their existence, because they were called for a greater purpose. Skullcrawlers both large and small shrieked with glorious, rampageous freedom and slammed themselves into whatever creature that tried to move so slowly in their path to attain that freedom. Sker Buffaloes were slashed at and thrown aside. Spore Mantises were crushed by the much larger Skullcrawlers. They were uncontrollable, uncontainable. Nothing could stop them from reaching the island’s edge to their escape.

Nothing could stop them...

The beast leaped from a great peak and landed in front of the stampede, kicking up a mountain of dust that shuddered the wave of creatures to a halt. The beasts of the air and the beasts of the field all slid and yielded almost instantly just at the mere shadow of the beast’s presence. But not the Skullcrawlers. They formed together to tackle the beast that dared to stand in their way. They, too, eventually froze. They, too, saw through the smoke and saw the falling sunlight shimmering one last time against the beast’s brown and black coat of fur.

They watched him lift his head. Unlike the creatures of Black Skull Island, this beast was not affected in the least by the call of the new alpha. His behavior remained the same as it ever was before; benevolent, gentle, peaceful, fierce, brutal, and horrifying to all who stood against his reign. He did not fall and grovel like the mindless, primal beasts such as the Skullcrawlers, or the thousands of creatures of Black Skull Island. He had heard the alpha call and responded the way he alone saw fit.

And King Kong did not bow.

For a moment, neither did the Skullcrawlers.

They were the brave—or the foolish—of the many creatures of Black Skull Island. They charged ahead in a feeble attempt to overwhelm the beast, dozens of Skullcrawlers crawling forward in a wave of terror and cries that would have petrified any other Titan standing alone against them. But not Kong.

Pounding his own chest, Kong unleashed a tremendous roar and retaliated, charging forth and slamming his open palm into the throat of the closest, lunging Skullcrawler.

With a swift flex of his hand, Kong snapped the creature’s neck while simultaneously slamming the corpse into several more raging on his left. A Skullcrawler slid forward, snapping its razor-sharp jaws around Kong’s right leg. Kong responded by ripping his leg free and driving his foot fiercely into the creature’s head, deep into the earth, where fragments of rock and dirt flew high to stream past Kong’s flaring jaws and resonating battle cry.

More and more kept on pressing on the needless fight, for a war that would have never ended in their victory. But they fought anyway, yearning for that lone desire of freedom and savagery the new alpha called them forth for. But the King of Black Skull Island would never allow it, would never allow the island’s creatures to cause so much death and destruction upon his home or beyond. They were his responsibility, his subjects, his dissidents that needed to be pressed down for their rebellion.

Prying the Skullcrawler off his back, Kong roared and gripped the creature by its tail, slamming it forward into the dirt before rearing to the side and striking the Titan’s body across several others. Psychovultures and Leafwings flew madly above them, some even having the audacity to strike Kong with his back turned, but they did not last long. They suffered the same fate as the rebels.

Releasing the tattered and bleeding corpse of the Skullcrawler from his hands, Kong watched the Titan fly and hit the side of a nearby mountain, its body only further crumbling at that. Roaring viciously, Kong quickly hunched forward from the attack on his shoulder, a Skullcrawler wrapping its tail around his abdomen while it quickly bit down on his shoulder and clawed at his head and bicep.

Once low to the ground, Kong reared forward and snatched a large boulder from the earth, refusing to hesitate and slamming the rock against the skull of the creature. It instantly deflated at the impact, Kong ripping the Skullcrawler off of him and taking the fragments of the boulder in his palm to slash and gut the creature into ribbons. Dark crimson flew like droplets of rain in a hurricane, painting Kong and the area in that horrific sickness.

One last Skullcrawler attempted to strike Kong with his head low, rearing high and with jaws open and claws extended to deliver the killing blow on the forgotten king. The beast very well neared Kong, but that was as far it got.

Before Kong jammed his fist upward and drove the jagged boulder fragment directly through the Skullcrawler’s agape jaws. It jutted free from the back of the creature’s head, as dark as the liquid that poured forth from its mouth, flowing down its body, to flood the devastated island floor below. The Titan froze in mid-air, caught in Kong’s upholding strength, and hung like a bleeding, broken towel from Kong’s extended arm.

With a sneering growl, Kong ripped his hand back and brought forth a strip of blood streaking across the light of the fading sun. The final Skullcrawler brave enough to stand against him had fallen, like the many, many corpses that surrounded the King of Black Skull Island. Slashes of blood covered his fur, his chest, and the scars from battles long past, adding even more for the battle today. Dropping the boulder fragments from his bleeding hands, Kong pounded his chest and roared to the skies. To his kingdom.

And so, the creatures recognized their king once more. They were forced to retreat, skittering, crawling, and flying away back into the island’s hold where they belonged. Kong kept on roaring, kept on pounding his chest to bring forth the long night upon his home where the creatures once more bowed solely to him, and never to another.

At that mere thought, Kong ceased his roaring. He dropped his bloody hands and rested them by his sides, swaying to his movements as he spun around.

Kong glared to the unforeseeable darkness in the skies, to the break on the horizon, to the coming storm that was slashed for but a moment by the rival alpha roar. The roar that somehow reached his home.

And would never reach it again as long as Kong remained king.

Author's Note:

Artwork by Shrekzilla

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