The first months of his life were very difficult. Had he not developed a sense of paranoia and a severe case of obsessive compulsive disorder, he would have been killed and eaten soon after abandonment. He learned to cover his tracks and only eat at night, the only time when his bright white body would not give away his position to lurking predators. In the day time, the albino zebra spent time in a cave he had unknowingly stumbled into one day. It was there that he schemed his revenge on the lion which had taken the only family he had ever known.
From spying on other animals, he knew that he was alone, even his mother had had stripes, of which he had none. There were no animals which looked like him, and he believed his uniqueness was of significance and meaning which he could not understand. He believed that he was there, and his mother had been killed, for a specific reason. Over time, the zebra grew, and this reason became clearer and more vivid in his mind.
Every night, the zebra practiced running, jumping, and kicking in preparation for the inevitable. By the age of three years, the zebra was already significantly faster and stronger than the other animals which he had observed from his cave. He grew tired of his nocturnal life, and wished very much to become the respected leader and warlord which he knew in his heart to be his destiny, but he did not think he was ready yet. Though he had forgotten the face of the lion which killed his mother, other lions attacked and killed gazelles and zebras every day. Seeing these events play out made the albino zebra recall the day of his birth, and through this his hatred for lions grew ever stronger.
When the albino zebra was four years old, he decided that he was strong and fast enough to stand without fear in the day world. He emerged from his cave a god, blinding white in the noon sun, and walked slowly to the watering hole he had spent so many nights drinking from. The pond was not what he was familiar with, it was crawling with life. The animals he had seen from afar, imagined lives for, were very different when saw them up close. And as he drank, he felt the gaze of a thousand confused eyes upon him. He looked around the bright grasslands, moving from eye to eye, meeting the stare of the bewildered animals, but there was something not right. He sensed something.
The fiery orange eyes of a lion peered out of tall reeds across from the pond at him. The albino zebra knew that it was time to test his might. In an eruption of motion, three lions attacked the stunned group of animals at the watering hole. Animals scattered, fleeing in packs and herds away from the pond, running for their lives. All but one.
The lions began devouring the young gazelles they had killed, they brutally ripped and tore at their skin. Seeing this enraged the albino zebra. Not since the day of his birth had he been so close to death, but now was different, he was no longer helpless. He walked slowly, quietly, around the pond towards the lions. Though they could have easily spotted the angry white beast, they were quite enjoying their prize. They were unsuspecting, who would dare attack lions, they ruled the land.
In a flash of white and a stamping of hooves, the albino zebra charged at the lions. Two of them, startled by the commotion, fled and hid behind reed. The other, the larger of the three, stood his ground, staring at the charging zebra. He was not only confused, but genuinely afraid. Not once in his life had he seen such an animal as this, nor had he seen such bravery, or was it foolishness.
The albino zebra leaped at him, legs flailing, hooves sailing through the air like medieval maces. With a single, wild, unforgiving blow the lion lay dead. It had had no time to react to the initial stun that came with looking at the albino zebra for the first time. The two lions, which had watched the death of their friend, found themselves blinded with madness, running towards the albino zebra. They pounced towards him, but he was much too swift.
As if a ghost, the zebra appeared behind one of the lions, who had jumped at him unsuccessfully. The albino zebra proceeded to stomp the lion to death, the sound of each crushing blow seemed to resonate through the quiet grasslands. The sound of victory, where no battle was expected. The remaining lion, frozen by fear, stared at the albino zebra. Blood covered his white fur, he was stained with the blood of the world's predators, his prey. He kicked the ground, tempting the lion to fight him, but the lion knew he would be defeated. The lion fled.
The albino zebra, proud of his kills and confident in his abilities, let the lion run, for a while anyways. When the lion had gotten around a hundred yards away, the zebra began to give chase. It didn't take long for the lion to realize he was being followed, the heavy thuds of hooves on solid ground grew closer an closer by the second. Before long, the albino was at the heels of the lion, taunting him, toying with him, waiting for him to crack under the pressure of his own fear. And then it happened.
The lion which had gained so much ground, but in the end meant so little, slipped. The sprinting hooves of the zebra showed no mercy, as they crushed the bones of the cat beneath them. The zebra did not stop, knowing that the lion was likely dead. And if it wasn't, it would escape to tell the other lions of him, and the game would continue. The day drew near the end, and the blood had started to dry, but the albino zebra was nowhere near completing his quest for revenge.
Over the years, the albino zebra became feared and respected by animals of all species and families. He single-handedly drove the lions, hyenas, cheetahs and crocodiles, effectively removing all of the major predators of the land. In their absence, an aura of peace and harmony governed the land, and any disturbances were met by the swift and powerful hooves of the albino zebra.