The sun rose over the City of Toronto, Ontario, bathing the largest metropolis in Canada with its ghastly light. I don't normally sleep but after last night's events, I just lay in bed with my eyes closed, dreaming of days gone by. In case you're wondering who this is, the name is Iblis. The Lord of Shadows. My kind are known as the Djinn, and I am by far the most powerful one you'll ever meet. I'd like to set the record straight about me. Nothing worse than bad PR, man. It's a career killer. I'm not going out like that.
I get out of bed, and handle my business, as they say. I'd tell you more but I'd like to keep some mystery between us. Fifteen minutes later, I'm freshly showered, my teeth are brushed and I smell good. I select my clothes for the day. Clothes make the man, as they say. I don't entirely agree with that but whatever. I believe in dressing well. Black Jacket, blue silk shirt, black silk pants and dark gray silk tie. That's my attire for the day. Got my badge hanging around my neck on a lanyard and my shield on my belt buckle. I am a detective with the Toronto Police Service. I joined the force seven years ago, and life hasn't been the same ever since.
Before leaving the house, I check my reflection. A six-foot-three, lean and athletic young man with curly black hair, light brown skin and amber eyes looks back at me. I look like a male model rather than a cop. An asset I use every day in my job as a policeman. Detective Alexander Jabir Mahmoud, at your service. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? I created this alias for myself more than thirty years ago. Has the most solid background of any Avatar I've used in recent centuries. Offspring of immigrant parents from Morocco. University of Toronto Law School graduate. Cricket club captain. The devil is in the details, you know? Of course, in the old days I wouldn't have bothered with all that because people asked fewer questions.
If you were to ask the average person living in the western hemisphere what a Djinn is, they'd shake their heads or stare at you blankly. If you go to the middle east, they'd give you a funny look and ask you why you're inquiring about evil spirits. I don't like that term, by the way. I don't think that anyone is one hundred percent good or one hundred percent evil. I believe that most of us live in the gray area in between. That's where I reside. Of course, many would deny this. They'd say that I am a master of evil. In many ways I am, but I also have my days when I feel jolly good...that's when I bake cookies and kiss puppies. I guess that makes me good, right?
If you're at all familiar with the Judeo-Christian faiths or with Islam you'll no doubt know names like Lucifer the Morningstar, Satan, the Devil and so on. Whenever someone is referring to the Lucifer or Satan from the Jewish and Christian stories, they're talking about someone else. I am no Angel, fallen or otherwise. Should they mention the Iblis from the Arabian myths, they're talking about me. I am the dark one, the spirit from above who was sent down below. All because I rebelled against God by refusing to bow down before mankind, and all that jazz. In the movies and poorly written novels many blame me for all the evil in the world. Folks, you give me too much credit. I've certainly got a busy schedule but I couldn't do all the crap people associate me with. Not by myself.
We the Djinn came into being after God made the Angels but before He created mankind. Like the Angels, we are immortal. I've been around since the Beginning, and I cannot die. Even if I wanted to. You cannot kill that which is immortal. I have done many wonderful and terrible things in my time and I shall many more before it is all over and done with. In my day, I've tormented kings and queens, laid entire kingdoms to waste, and also fought against Angels, lesser demons and monsters. As one of the most powerful members of Djinn society, I fought for what's mine. And at some point, I grew tired of The Game. I left the Djinn world, and stayed on the planet Earth, among the mortals.
I get in my car and speed away, toward the downtown precinct where I work. I listen to the radio while driving. I only live fifteen minutes from downtown but in Toronto traffic can be murder. A certain female radio host's smooth voice chimes in, informing me of The Mayor's latest foible. So far he's had his picture taken with thugs, got caught doing drugs and also insulted one of Canada's most beloved authors. Dude's a creep and he's got to go but hey, people in Toronto seem to love him. What a joke. I make my way through the precinct building's lobby, well aware of everyone looking at me. As a tall man of Afro-Arabian descent, I attract attention everywhere I go, even in racially diverse Toronto.
I could have left the car at home and simply willed myself to the precinct by means of Teleportation but I loathe to use my powers. I've grown accustomed to functioning in the mundane world of the humans. Besides, I believe in keeping a low profile. I make my way to my office, and I run into my partner, Detective Jonathan Tartaglia. Third-generation Italian-Canadian. He's fifty four, and one of the least corrupt members of the Toronto Police force. He told me that, back in his younger days, he liked to nap in squad cars in empty parking lots while on duty. He's been married and divorced three times. Tartaglia's also gay or bisexual, though he makes a lot of homophobic jokes. I pretend not to know. The tubby old-timer greets me with a smile. Hello GQ, he says with a smirk. I roll my eyes and pretend to be annoyed. Still breathing Jon? I chime in. We shake hands, and report to Captain Janice Chang's office for our daily briefing.
