tagNon-EroticSuperhuman: It's Not My Time

Superhuman: It's Not My Time


Hi, there. How are you? My name is James Guillaume. I'm a six-foot-one, fairly good-looking young black man living in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I'm twenty years old and I was born under the sign of the Aquarius. Which pretty much makes me an inquisitive and open-minded person by nature. Lucky me. Because life has been throwing me all kinds of challenges lately. I've done my best to meet them. It comes with being what I am.

What am I? One of those beings whom modern-day humans refuse to believe exist. My species is known as the Protean. And we've always been around. Long before the time of man. We look exactly like human beings but we aren't. We're stronger, faster and more intelligent. Our senses of sight, smell and hearing are five times more acute than those of the average human being. Also, we live longer. Much longer. We can live for thousands of years if we are fed properly and well exercised. And of course, if we aren't somehow killed. Secrecy has been key to our survival. We are everywhere and handle every kind of job. Every walk of life. The one rule we all obey? Humans must never know about us.

I'm a member of the Roche Pride. In case you don't know what that is, a Pride is a group of individuals ( of my species) who are genetically related to one another. The Roche Pride is of African and French-Canadian origin. We rule the territory known as Bean Town. There are lots of Prides in the New England area. And we are at war with one another. It's a sad state of the affairs but it's nevertheless true.

My father, Franklin Guillaume is the Alpha Male of the Pride. He who leads us in our darkest times. My grandmother, Matilda Guillaume is the Matriarch of the Roche Pride. A tall, dark-skinned and silver-haired lady of regal bearing. She appears to be in her early sixties but she's much older than that. Matilda Guillaume was once a pirate of the Caribbean in the 1 780s. Nearly a century later, she fought in the American Civil War. Yeah, she's been around for a while. That's why she has the loyalty of every male and female affiliated with the Roche Pride.

Things haven't been too much fun for me lately, folks. I just broke up with my boyfriend Trevor Watkins. He's a tall, red-haired, kind of good-looking Irish dude I've been seeing for a while. He is a student at Suffolk University Law School and we had a good thing going. We met at a dorm party organized by a mutual friend and basically hit it off. That is until his conservative parents came to town and I saw that the man I was dating had absolutely no spine. He absolutely could not stand up to his career military serviceman of a father or his mother, the shrill-voiced Methodist preacher lady. That day I decided to cut my losses and move on. I've got this habit of attracting losers. Don't smile. It could happen to you too.

So I was looking forward to putting my life back together. I'm a criminal justice student at Boston College. I'm in my third year in the program and I'm thinking about going to Boston College Law School afterwards. I could see myself becoming a prosecutor someday. Maybe even Attorney General. Anything is possible in this world. A black man recently became the forty-fourth President of the United States of America. A few years ago, a black man became the democratically elected Governor of Massachusetts. And a while back, a black female Republican became the U.S. Secretary of State. Yeah, big things are happening in the world.

Which is the main reason why I so totally don't need a Pride War taking place right now. The Roche Pride is at war with the Chthonian Pride. They are primarily of Greek descent and they're a bunch of bureaucrats and politicians. The men and women of the Roche Pride are primarily fighters. My father is a Colonel with the Massachusetts State Troopers and he did three tours of duty in Iraq. My big sister Helen is a Lieutenant Detective with the Boston Police Department. My older brother Lawrence is a Corrections Officer working for the Massachusetts Department of Corrections. I'm the only academic in the family. Most of our men and women are either in the military, the police force or working with the corrections system.

When the Matriarch of the Roche Pride told us that we might be going to war with the Chthonian Pride, I was the only one who felt less than thrilled. Our Pride has thousands of members. We've got the toughest bunch of men and the most vicious band of women ever assembled. I can say this because I know most of them. However, a Pride War isn't what I felt was needed at the moment. There are hundreds of our people serving in the military right now and they can't all return home in time for our very own private war. We'd be fighting without our full power. Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?

I didn't know too much about the Chthonian Pride, to tell you the truth. During my freshman year at Boston College, I dated one of them. Her name was Linda Stravopoulos. A tall, good-looking, dark-haired and bronze-skinned Grecian beauty who simply took my breath away. We met at a party at Northeastern University, which she attended. The gal had it all, folks. At five-eleven and one hundred and eighty pounds, she had the build of an Amazon. She had face, chest, legs and buns. Linda had the kind of big round booty that was kind of rare on white females. At least when I was growing up. I met her at a time when I was filled with doubt about myself. I was just discovering my bisexuality and I wasn't exactly comfortable with every aspect of myself.

Linda swept in, and we had a whirlwind romance. It's not every day that I met a female of my species whom I found myself compatible with. Men and women everywhere will always have issues with one another. However, in the Protean Community, those issues are quite complicated. Having a girlfriend who has superhuman strength sounds like a good idea until you experience what she's like when she's in a foul mood. Yeah, it's not the most fun thing in the world. I'm being as tactful as I can. Linda was a nice, easygoing gal. We had a lot in common. She loved comic books and action movies as much as I did. She would quote science fiction visionary Isaac Asimov and world-famous philosopher Nietzsche as easily as ordinary guys and gals quoted stand-up comedians like Jerry Seinfeld or Dave Chappelle. We had a good thing going on. In fact, she was the first woman I had sexual relations with. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be. You see, in the end she tried to kill me. All for being a Roche!

If you think the human community has prejudice, wait till you meet the genetically enhanced superhumans of this world. Men and women in the Protean Community are constantly vying for power and control. Just like the humans. However, they are infinitely more vicious. And they can inflict far more damage on one another. When they have their Pride Wars, thousands of men and women will die needlessly. Sometimes, I think it's a miracle we haven't wiped each other out. The men and women of the Chthonian Pride held territory ranging from central Connecticut to Rhode Island. They owned small businesses, law firms, private schools, large corporations, and think tanks. And they were a dominant force on the New England political scene. On both the Democratic and Republican parties.

The Chthonian Pride has limitless ambition. They outnumber us because they multiply like locusts. Being a bunch of lizard-brained politicians rather than honest warriors, they tend to let others do their fighting for them. They actually hire mercenaries to do their dirty work rather than to breed their own army. Among the families of the Roche Pride, all of us, both male and female, are trained to fight since birth. And we are proud of it. The idea of hiring mercenaries to do our dirty work is offensive to us. That's how we are. And I think it's going to cost us in the coming times. The men and women of the Chthonian Pride are genetically designed to be murderous, treacherous and deceitful. I found out firsthand by dating one of their women.

As I said before, Linda Stravopoulos and I were having a grand old time. She was everything a man could want. Passionate, open-minded, funny and free-spirited. We would make love in my dorm, after I got rid of my roommate, some human whose name I forgot. Sometimes, we did in the bathrooms of restaurants we patronized. Once, we got caught doing it in the men's room by the security team of Copley Mall. Good times, folks. Good times. I had no idea the gal I was falling in love with was an infiltrator. She told me she was a Rogue. Among the Protean, men and women who've disgraced themselves are thrown out of their Prides. Or executed. They're called Rogues. Associating with a Rogue was usually a status killer and thus considered strictly taboo in our community.

When I looked at Linda, I didn't see a Rogue. I saw a kindred spirit. A woman whom I wanted to spend the remainder of my days with. I shared everything with her. She omitted the part about her being an active member of the Chthonian Pride and one of their super spies. She had been sent to take me out. I couldn't figure out why. My sister Helen was the eldest among my father's offspring. Someday, she would become the Chief of the Pride. The Alpha Female. She was a shoo-in, unless she screwed up. Then our dear grandma, the Pride Matriarch would step in, and get rid of her. That's what happens to bad leaders in our community. It didn't make sense to me that the Chthonian Pride would waste their time by trying to assassinate me.

My father Franklin Guillaume didn't think much of me. Especially since my birth pangs were the death throes of my mother, Alpha Female Beatrice Oberon Guillaume. The fact that I came out as a bisexual man during my freshman year created yet another gulf between us. He also didn't think much of academics. He loved cops and soldiers and despised lawyers. I wasn't worth much to him and he would shoot me rather than to let me become the next Alpha of the Pride. So I couldn't figure out why the Chthonian Pride would want me dead.

The betrayal came unexpectedly on a warm day in November. It was our one-year anniversary. I took Linda to a nice restaurant. Afterwards, we went back to her dorm. We made love, then I fell asleep. That's when she tried to kill me. Luckily, I've always been a light sleeper. And I've got superhuman earring. As Linda unsheathed her blade from the sash she wore, I woke up. I caught her wrist as she brought the blade down to my chest. The sight of this woman I loved trying to kill me was terrifying. The hateful look in her eyes haunts me to this day.

I defended myself from her. It wasn't easy. She was superhumanly strong. Five human men couldn't take her on in a fair fight. Luckily, I wasn't human. We wrestled fiercely on the bed where we made love countless times. I was able to take the blade away from her. She seized a heavy-looking lamp, and sought to brain me with it. Without hesitation, I lashed out with the blade. It struck Linda in the face, cutting a long diagonal line from her left cheek to the cleft of her chin. Screaming, she shrank from me. Then, like a banshee, she wailed and leapt out the window. I never saw her again. And thus ended my relationship with the only woman I've ever been.

I didn't tell my father or my siblings about my romantic fiasco. I told my dear grandmother, Matilda Guillaume. She was very understanding, though shocked at my naïveté. She told me what she had learned from our spies. Linda Stravopoulos was a member of the Red Dagger, a secret cabal of assassins bred by the Chthonian Pride. Her father was none other than millionaire industrialist and world-famous philanthropist Antonius Stravopoulos, Commander-in-Chief of the Chthonian Army and their current Alpha Male. Linda had been operating undetected in New England for a long time, killing quite a few of our top men and women. I felt a pang of guilt. The assassin of my people was the woman who shared my bed. I had been so foolish and naïve.

Grandma told me that our top bounty hunters were going after Linda Stravopoulos, though I knew in my heart they wouldn't find her. She was too devious and treacherous. I took small comfort in the fact that I had robbed her of her beauty, something she couldn't replace. Members of the Protean race live longer than humans. We heal much quicker. But we're not invincible. We cannot regenerate lost or damaged body parts. We're resilient, not indestructible. The scar I inflicted on Linda was one she would bear for the rest of her life. That so didn't make me feel better. Sometimes, I wonder. Was it all a lie? Every date we went on? Every kiss we shared? Every time we made love? Why did she wait so long to kill me? I would never know the answer to these questions.

I decided to move on with my life. I plunged myself into my studies, determined to graduate from the criminal justice program with honors before going to Boston College Law School. I would become a Double Eagle. If you don't know what that means, Google it. I went on dates with guys and gals. None of them lit my fire. I slept with some guys and the occasional woman, just to kill the boredom. I didn't let myself fall in love with any of them. I cared for Trevor Watkins, and we had fun together. But I didn't love him. I don't want to love again. It hurts too much. I can't see into the hearts of every man and woman I meet. I'm only superhuman, I guess. I'm not a God. I must push these thoughts out of my head. War is almost upon us. Someday soon, Linda and I may meet on the battlefield as the Roche and Chthonian Prides clash for supremacy. And when that happens, only one of us will live to tell the tale.

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