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Harambe, with a lost look in his eyes, listened with an absent-minded ear to the young human pulling tirelessly on the arm of what seemed to be his father. They shared the same arrogant gleam in their eyes. She seemed determined to make this male crack with an excessive use of decibels. It was only a matter of minutes before the man gave in and bought his daughter her favorite frozen food, Harambe knew, they all give in eventually. Over the years, he had seen all kinds of little humans and their parents come and go. At first he was surprised that in the human race, the child seemed to have taken the lead in the family.What the brat wants, the brat always ends up getting. He had finally stopped caring and lassitude had taken over. He tried not to pay attention to it anymore because it always ended up with old memories as strong as painful. Each time, he couldn’t help but draw a parallel with his own family.In his clan, it did not happen like that, Harambe would never let his children or any other young individual dictate his behavior. The Alpha male, as he liked to be called, knew what was good for his people and everyone had a place to respect and a rank to hold. He blinked several times to chase away the tear that was beading at the corner of his eyelid. He was now having all the trouble in the world trying to regain his usual lethargy. Not to think anymore, not to feel anything to forget his sad condition in this damn cage. 7 years that he had been torn away from his home, 7 years that the human cruelty had annihilated a big part of his family, 7 years that he saw his son growing up in a cage, with for only memory these cold and morose prison bars.
Still immersed in his thoughts, he did not immediately notice the little boy who had escaped his father’s notice. The metallic clanking of the protective grate did not attract his attention until the little boy was at the top of it. He watched him fall into the pit, his fall only softened by the muddy water that stagnated there. What an incongruous visit, that changed him a little from his morose daily life. He didn’t really know what attitude to adopt, he didn’t feel any particular hate for this little man because after all he was only a child. No child on this earth, whatever his race, should pay the price of an adult’s cruelty. The little man seemed to be in a bad way in that body of water, still dizzy from his heavy fall. But to say that he felt compassion would surely be a bit of an exaggeration. Who knows, maybe this miniature human being was a torturer in the making. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. So he started to descend to the pit to help this fragile little thing. When the boy saw Harambe coming towards him, he suddenly froze, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Didn’t he realize that the only monster here would later be found in the reflection of the mirror. Harambe, absorbed by this thought, did not even see his captors positioning themselves around the cage. They were all armed with the long guns they had used against his family when he was captured. No, what caught his attention was the cry of distress from his son on the other side of the pit. He turned his head towards his child with a sinking feeling in his stomach and saw him waving his hands outside the cage. By the time he understood the reason for his son’s agitation, it was too late. Those cowards fired without warning and the pain shot through his chest. He didn’t think he had ever felt such physical pain. Everything around him froze, time almost stopped, and sounds stopped coming. And just when he thought he was relieved to be out of this hell, the last thing he saw was his son, his face disfigured by sadness, fear and incomprehension. He had just enough time to feel guilt as he thought about the world he was leaving his one and only son in.
As far back as he could remember, Junior had always been in this cage, with only metal bars to look at and a gray sky to look up to. Fortunately, his father was there to remind him that life wasn’t always so bleak. He loved to hear him talk about his mother, the rest of the clan, the green landscapes and the wild escapes. Nevertheless, it was difficult for this young monkey to imagine what life in the wild was like, as humans had not invested much time and money in restoring their natural habitat. These moments of sharing with his father were quite rare because although they brought back a spark of life in his eyes, it was often followed by a painful wave of nostalgia. After that, his father returned prostrate in this envelope of frustration and anger. But he couldn’t blame him, he himself had only known life in captivity unlike his father who had never accepted his new condition. Living in behind a fence during the day and in a cage at night was enough to drive any living thing crazy. If only it had stopped with the confinement it could have been bearable … But when the night came, the treatment they received from these devils of men was quite different. It’s always so easy to be a bully when you’re on the right side of the fence, armed with an electric dart gun. He had seen men use all sorts of bloody tools on animals, so that morning when he saw their jailers surrounding the enclosure with those steel cannons, he knew it was no game. They all seemed to be focused on the same spot, so when Junior looked up and saw his father on the other side of the pit, his heart missed a beat or two. The humans did not miss their target and took away Junior’s only family, his reason for living, his only attachment to his past life. The rest, you guessed it, was only sadness, hatred and contempt for what he saw as an immoral, unjust and unjustified execution.
Riding his motorcycle through the streets, Mebhara thought back to that strange time after the murder. He had decided not to be named Junior anymore, only his father called him that way, and it brought back too many painful memories. He had nevertheless chosen Mebhara which was none other than the anagram of his father’s name. The few years that had passed afterwards, he had only few memories of them.This period seemed to him to be a blur because he had wandered like a soul in pain. Not even making the effort to eat or move, he had thought of letting himself die. This made him so uninteresting to the humans that they finally got rid of him. One morning, men dressed in white coats came to get him. He felt the sting of a needle in the back of his neck before he sank and woke up in what was to be his new hell. The humans called it a laboratory. A place of all tortures that made him bitterly regret his poorly decorated enclosure. No need to describe his life, or rather his survival, thinking about it only made it more real. But after a while, he noticed a substantial difference. The humans seemed to be panicking, his designated tormentors were changing regularly, and the more time passed, the less they seemed to care about anything. Opportunities to evade became more and more frequent. So much so that escaping for good was a piece of cake.Once outside, he quickly realized that nothing seemed to be normal. The men were experiencing a very violent karma feedback, a virus seemed to decimate them at lightning speed. So much so that one day there were only a handful left, hiding to escape the contamination. Mebhara couldn’t believe his eyes, he would have almost felt pity for them if he hadn’t hated them so much. It didn’t take long for Mebhara to realize that an opportunity like this would not come around twice.The animal species seemed immune to the virus, but few of them were able to understand what was really going on, this was his chance to take back control and he wasn’t going to let it slip away.
Mebhara scoured the cities, looking for other apes who had also been torn from their homes. He even returned to his own hellhole, which the man called “zoo”, hoping to fill his lonely existence with new encounters or perhaps to save a fellow monkey as he would have liked to be saved at the time. What he found was far beyond anything he could have imagined. The enslavement of primates and other animals made him wonder how the human race could be so cruel and greedy. In most of his expeditions, he had found only dead animals, abandoned to their poor fate in impassable cages. Disgusted, he resigned himself to forget this option because the more time passed, the more the chances of finding his fellow animals alive diminished. These beginnings as a free monkey were therefore difficult, the world as he had known it no longer existed, not that he was complaining about it, but everything was turned upside down. He was alone, hungry and without a reference point. Yet he didn’t want to give up hope, he hadn’t overcome all these difficulties to let himself die, especially now that he was finally free. His optimism proved to be right as it wasn’t long before he met Spencer. It was an essential encounter that marked a turning point in his new life. Spencer’s story was similar to the one of his own father. He was a monkey who had been taken from his jungle for over 10 years. He had been bought on the black market and had initially been used as a pet monkey by a biker gang. Spencer had at least managed to get some good out of this experience, the knowledge of two-wheeled engines. So this period of his captivity had not been the worst. But that all changed when the police raided the house to arrest the gang leader.Treated as mere evidence, he was sent straight to the local zoo after a few miserable days in a dark basement police station. He had spent some dark years there, about which he had never really opened up. Recently he had managed to escape, just as Mebhara had done at the beginning of the end of the ancient world, taking advantage of the panic in the human ranks. Spencer reminded him of his father, but a more positive and spiritual version. He was not as contaminated by the desire for revenge that inhabited Merhambe. He had not been spared much, but he had an impressive resilience. This helped him to keep his spirits up and not to fall into madness. Spencer had this calming power over him that saved him from many a bloodbath. The complicity between these two continued to grow along with an almost paternal trust.
On their way, they met many other brothers and the group grew larger and larger. All these changes took him some time to adapt. He was happy to be surrounded by his own kind, that was not the problem, but he had never really known this life in community. He had been born in the wild but was soon captured, so he had almost no memory of that period of his life. No, the life he remembered from before was him and his father at best, him alone at worst. He remembered discussions he had had with his father about how their clan was organized before the capture, but it was all becoming vague and time was doing its work in erasing his memories little by little. He had no idea how to structure a group, let alone be its leader. But it didn’t matter to him, he had not come this far to be discouraged so quickly. Because one day, perhaps, humans will try to take over the world again, but on that day, he promised himself, he will be ready and will not let human greed destroy everything in its path again. It was therefore necessary for him to prepare himself as well as possible in order to give himself every chance to succeed. All this quickly led him to think about a clan organization as well as a hierarchy so that everyone knows where his place is. He had heard somewhere that the highest perfection of a society is found in the union of order and anarchy. Of course he would take the lead, things would be done his way. He already had his own idea of his ideal gang. He didn’t want an army, he wanted a family. A family of ruthless fighters of course, with loyal members, ready to die for the cause. No betrayal was tolerated, and respect for the leaders was essential. He quickly surrounded himself with a close circle in whom he had blind trust and on whom he relied for important decisions. The law of the strongest guided the group so that in the eyes of the world, they were perceived as violent and heartless, but they had ethics, moral values, a code of honor. The goal was not to be like these human executioners. Thus, the promise given had a stronger value than a contract, it was an alliance. Acts reinforced loyalties and a system of rewards or punishments according to the nature of the act was quickly put in place. There were rules and everyone had to follow them strictly. The president himself was at the top of the chain, and was always accompanied by the treasurer. The treasurer had an essential role, he managed all the clan’s earnings and distributed them. It was therefore obvious that this role would be held by someone neutral and fair, his companion of the first day Spencer. Spencer did not want a leadership role, so now he had to find someone else to take on the role of vice president.
He found his Vice President in Troy. The relationship he had with Troy was completely different from the one he had with Spencer. He was more like a brother than a father. They were about the same age and shared the same thirst for revenge. He was a dying monkey when Mebhara discovered him. But Mebhara had seen the flame of the fighter shine in his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to let another brother die so he saved his life. Troy owed him a debt of gratitude and loyalty. He didn’t have the lust for power at any cost that could have threatened Mebhara. But he knew he would make a good leader for the MoA fam when the time came. Once the gang had been built up and the hierarchy established, the power of the gang inspired fear and respect. It was under these conditions that they met a group of mercenaries. The Sicarios were discreet but dangerous, they never showed their faces and did not want to belong to any group other than their own. Yet Mebhara couldn’t help but be intrigued by his not-so-talkative mercenaries. Even if he didn’t consider them a direct threat, he needed to define a basic agreement with them. He would not let an armed force opportunity like this pass. After much discussion, the Sicarios pledged allegiance to the Monkey of Anarkey. Nevertheless, they wanted to keep their independence and did not want to report regularly to Mebhara. The Sicarios remained mercenaries and were therefore paid for specific missions. The agreement was a win-win situation, with everyone getting something out of it. Mebhara even ended up finding them sympathetic.
Time passed and the ranks of the Monkeys of Anarkey grew stronger and stronger, their reputation was well known in what remained of the world. In order to belong, it was necessary to pass very selective tests. If you could pass these tests, you could finally be awarded a famous leather jacket badge. You started out as a Prospect and as time went on and you did more and more things, you move up the ranks. For those who couldn’t or didn’t want to pass the tests, it was still possible to benefit from the protection of the gang but they had to respect the rules and work for Mebhara, they didn’t have badges but they knew they could count on him and his gang, because it was well know that Mebhara was tough but had only one word.
Together they were strong and Mebhara promised them: they will never be afraid again, they will be fear. As Machiavelli said, ‘’ The one who controls the fear of people becomes the master of their souls.’’
Max 500 MoA
Max 500 MoA
"Build your own chapter now."
"Let's ride."