A Superhuman Mastermind in Time

They call me horrendous company. What a load of crap. It's amazing how people manage to make themselves look good and shamelessly discredit the opposition when telling their side of the story. I'm sure those xenophobic goons in 1940s Germany had a good story when they were made to pay for what they did. My name is Alex Des-Pres. A big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of New York. I was born and raised in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. I've been living in America for about five years now. Things went bad in Quebec and I had to leave the Confederation of Canada, folks.

There is a war being fought all around us, folks. There are men and women who were born different. We're not something out of classic horror literature. No vampires, werewolves, demons or shape-shifters. We're not freaks from modern science fiction like the mutants from the X-Men either. The truth is that we are something much stranger. And yes, each of us has a unique ability. I am called the Poisonous One. My body chemistry is unique, to say the least. My blood, sweat, tears and probably even my semen contain something more lethal than Anthrax, the Ebola virus, the H.I.V. virus and cancer combined. And it can kill you in sixty seconds flat. If I spit on you, bleed on you, or if you simply come in contact with my sweat, you're dead. Does that sound like a fun super power to have?

And to think that until recently I thought of myself as a normal guy. It all began a couple of years ago. I was a business student at Concordia University in the City of Montreal, Quebec. I was dating this beautiful Somali gal named Afya Abdullah. You should have seen her, man. Tall, light-skinned and gorgeous, with a curvy body, and an ass that would make God Himself smile. A spectacularly hot sister from the African motherland. Afya studied criminal justice at the University of Montreal at the time we met. Somali folks and Haitians don't really mix because of a history of conflict in Canada but Afya and I still fell in love with each other. I loved my lady. I can honestly say that she brought meaning into my life.

At the time we met, I was drifting in and out of unhealthy relationships. I am bisexual, by the way. I find both women and men attractive. By far I prefer women. Still, I did get into this dalliance with this Hispanic hustler named Rico. He's one of the biggest drug dealers in the City of Montreal. Rico and I got involved, and he was a mean bastard. Folks, men can and do get abused in relationships. It's not just women who can be victims. I couldn't admit to myself that I was bisexual and I felt guilty every time I had sex with Rico. I hated myself. Rico was bisexual too and had female lovers all over town. He considered me his own personal bitch, though. When I left him, it wasn't pretty. Luckily, I met Afya. A beautiful Black woman who wasn't turned off by the idea of befriending and even dating a bisexual Black man. My lifeline. My saviour. With Afya by my side, my life was perfect. I mean, the gal accepted me for who and what I was, no questions asked. I'm Haitian and she's Somali. I'm Christian and she's Muslim. Hell, I'm uncircumcised, and she doesn't even mind. Yeah, I wanted to wife her for sure. I wanted to graduate from Concordia University with my MBA and then take the corporate world by storm. With my beautiful Black queen by my side of course. Unfortunately, things didn't quite work out that way. For starters, some truly evil people came into my life. Their arrival cost me my world, and revealed my hidden powers.

These people are called the Triumvirate. A gathering of police officers, scientists and soldiers from the United States of America, the Confederation of Canada and the Republic of Mexico. These people are hunting down men and women with special abilities all over North America. They have counterparts in the African Union, the Caribbean, the Middle East, Latin America, Asia and Europe. The Triumvirate brings together law enforcement, scientists and the military. All with the goal of eradicating people like me. They don't consider us to be human. They call us by terms like it or 'the thing'. Forget about our human rights because we're not human in their eyes. I can't stand these bastards and bitches. They turned my life into hell. And they convinced my beautiful would-be bride Afya that I was a monster. Even worse, they destroyed my life by framing me for her murder. After they got her to turn against me. Are they sadistic or what? I mean, why not just kill me?

Like I said, I can't stand these people. And I've visited death upon each and every last one of them who came after me. Like that bitch Jill Hawking. A tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed bimbo from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Some would describe her as beautiful and ruthlessly ambitious. A graduate of Concordia University's Faculty of Law who chose law enforcement instead of becoming a lawyer. She's one of the field agents of the Triumvirate. And the person they sent after me. She personally put a bullet in Afya's head and framed me for her murder. During that first meeting, I promised her that I would destroy her someday. And as of last week I finally kept my promise. A simple touch from me poisoned Jill Hawking with something worse than anthrax and Ebola combined. And she died instantly. As did the eleven or so men and women who traveled with her, armed to the teeth and clad in Bio-Hazard resistant suits.

The Triumvirate has made me a priority on their hunting lists. They don't really worry me, though. You want to know who worries me? This bitch named Joanna Brent. A short Jamaican chick I met in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. She lives in the Dorchester area with her yuppie Irish boyfriend Liam O'Shea and their daughter Cassandra. Joanna is one of us. People cursed with extraordinary abilities. Joanna has the ability to elevate or lower body temperatures in human beings as well as animals. It's a lethal ability, let me tell you. The first time we met, I tried to warn her about the Triumvirate. She didn't listen to me and when I tried to make her listen to reason, she frigging almost killed me. Made my body temperature drop to the point that I almost died. Joanna is unstable, man. She's madly in love with her normal life, and doesn't like admitting what she is. When her boyfriend saw her using her abilities on me, he fled. And she blames me for unravelling her picture perfect life. Joanna is on the run with her daughter Cassandra and I don't know what became of her boyfriend. All I know is that this woman has sworn to kill me. I tried to save her life and now she wants me dead. Aren't women simply amazing? Small wonder chivalry is dead!

I left Montreal and ended up in New York. Odd place for a Black Canadian to find himself in, eh? Adjusting to life in America wasn't easy. I live under another name now. I work as a security guard to pay some bills and I live in a small apartment in a neighbourhood filled with Mexicans and African-Americans. Lively people for sure. They found my thick Quebecer accent funny as hell. Well, as long as they're okay with me and my enemies don't show up at my doorstep, I think I'll stay in this town. It's not heaven but it's not hell either. Sometimes, I think about my old life in Montreal. I miss Montreal-Nord, the Haitian-dominated district where I grew up. The African-Americans of America are okay but they're not like us Haitians from Montreal, Quebec. Nobody messes with Haitians in the City of Montreal. Not cops, mobsters or even Hell's Angels. Even in Obama's America, African-Americans in New York get routinely mistreated by bigoted cops. In Montreal, a bigoted cop knows messing with a Haitian for no reason means he or she is going to get their throat cut sooner or later. In Montreal, we Haitians run everything. We run this town!

In New York, I actually made some friends. One of whom is actually cool with me being who and what I am. This old Italian dude named Sergio Maroni. He lives in my neighbourhood with his Chinese wife, Amanda Lee. They're the people I rent my place from. One night, this Puerto Rican bozo named Raul and his friends tried to rob Sergio's wife's convenience store. I happened to be in there, shopping for toilet paper because I just ran out. That's when I realized that my ability isn't always lethal. I can actually incapacitate people without killing them. Take Raul for example. He had a nasty cold, and I caused it to worsen to the point that he passed out. I then dispatched his buddies by smashing them over the head with something. The cops came and hauled them away. Convenience store robberies are so common in New York that it's not even funny.

That night, Sergio and his wife saw me using my abilities. They discovered I could sicken someone with a simple touch. And the weird thing is that they didn't freak out. Sergio thanked me for saving his wife's life. I shook his hand, looked into his eyes and nodded. I lay in my bed that night, my mind racing. Two ordinary humans knew what I was. Should I run? I was seriously considering it. Until Amanda Lee came up to offer me some sweet pie for saving her life. Yeah, I decided to stay. Pie is a powerful thing, man! I've decided to stay in New York. I stopped working security. I decided to use another one of my powers, my smart brain. I set up this tutoring service where I tutor local community college students in everything from linguistics to mathematics and science. I was an MBA student at Montreal's very own Concordia University, which is to Canada's higher education system what Harvard University is to the United States of America. Yep. I like my job. Through it I met this cute gal named Wendy. She's tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed and very pretty. Not that I'm into white chicks but she's fine. I think she's into me but I'm not ready for that. Afya still haunts my dreams. I hold onto the one picture of Afya that I snatched from our apartment the night she died. I kiss that picture every night. It's in a locket I wear around my neck.

Yeah, I'm starting to like my life in New York. I care for my new friends Sergio and Amanda. I am becoming friends with Wendy, who comes to see me even when school's out. I think she likes Black guys with French accents but like I said, I'm not ready to move on. My Afya still lives on in my mind and heart. Besides, with the Triumvirate out there hunting people like me, I don't think getting in too deep with a lady is the right move. Still, I won't stop myself from living. Otherwise what would be the point of waking up every bloody day? Life isn't easy but I'm fighting for mine. And I'm fighting for my share of the world. The triumvirate took the life I had in Canada. They say if you can make it in America, you can make it anywhere. I am about to test that theory.

Someday I will reclaim my rightful place in my native land. And I will avenge my Afya, and all other innocent men and women slain by the Triumvirate. I won't let anyone get in my way. Not misguided folks with special abilities like Joanna Brent or ruthless international government agents like the deceased Jill Hawking. No one. I understand their fears, you know. I really do. I was afraid of myself when my powers first manifested themselves. I got over my fear and used it against my enemies. People like me, we can do amazing things. They should have come to us, talked to us and dealt with us like people. By hunting us down like animals, they've created a lethal enemy. And I doubt there's anyone on the planet more lethal than me. Bigoted humans beware!