The baby monkey clung to a thin branch, its tiny body trembling. The jungle was alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but for this helpless creature, the world had gone silent. Below, the dark water of the river rippled, disturbed by something unseen. Something waiting.
A crocodile.
Its ancient eyes watched, unblinking, as the monkey struggled to climb higher. The baby had lost its mother just moments ago. She had tried to leap across the river but miscalculated. The sharp snap of jaws had sealed her fate, and now, her child was left alone, unaware that death still lurked below.
The monkey tried to balance, its tiny hands slipping against the damp bark. The branch was thin, too weak to hold it much longer. The jungle offered no escape. No vines dangled close enough to reach. No fellow monkeys had come to its rescue. The baby’s cries echoed through the trees, but no one answered.
The crocodile moved with eerie patience, drifting just beneath the surface. It knew the branch wouldn’t hold forever. It knew hunger would soon be satisfied. Slowly, it positioned itself, ready for the inevitable.
The monkey’s grip faltered. Its small body wobbled. The wind rustled through the trees as if whispering a final warning. Then—
A snap.
The branch gave way, and the baby monkey plunged downward.
For a moment, it flailed, trying to grab something—anything—but there was nothing to hold onto. The world blurred as it fell toward the water, toward the waiting jaws.
A splash.
The river swallowed the tiny creature whole. It barely had time to struggle before the massive mouth of the crocodile rose from beneath, jaws parting wide.
A second splash. Then silence.
The jungle returned to its usual rhythm. Birds still sang. Leaves still rustled. But where the baby monkey had once clung, there was nothing.
The river rippled once more and then smoothed, as if nothing had ever happened.
Because in the wild, mercy does not exist.
And no one had come to save it.
